STATION 7: JESUS FALLS FOR THE SECOND TIME

He never sinned, nor ever deceived anyone. He did not retaliate when he was insulted, nor threaten revenge when he suffered. He left his case in the hands of God, who always judges fairly. He personally carried our sins in his body on the cross so that we can be dead to sin and live for what is right. By his wounds you are healed.
— 1 Peter 2:22-24 (NLT)

I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; all day long I go around mourning. For my loins are filled with burning, and there is no soundness in my flesh. I am utterly spent and crushed; I groan because of the tumult of my heart.
O Lord, all my longing is known to you; my sighing is not hidden from you. My heart throbs, my strength fails me; as for the light of my eyes — it also has gone from me.
— Psalm 38:6-10 (NRSV)

Station 7

He falls again.

We might’ve thought the first time was enough—
enough suffering, enough pain.
But the road is long,
the cross is heavy,
and his strength is nearly gone.

And so—
he stumbles.
He collapses into the dirt
for the second time.

No miracles here.
No flash of divine power.
Just raw humanity.
Just a Savior who knows what it means
to be exhausted, overwhelmed,
and still have more road ahead.

This second fall speaks to all the times we fall not once,
but again.
When we thought we had recovered—
only to find ourselves face down once more.
When shame tries to convince us that falling twice
means we're failing forever.

But here is Jesus—
again on the ground,
again getting up,
again choosing love over escape.

He is not ashamed of our weakness.
He knows it.
He walks with us in it.
And still, he continues.

Let us pray.

Christ of the broken path, you fell again, and showed us that falling is not the same as giving up.

We pray for all who feel they can’t rise again — those battling addiction, those grieving fresh losses, those who have tried and tried and still feel like they’re failing.

Give them the courage to rise again. Give us the grace not to measure others by how often they fall, but by how tenderly they rise.

And when we fall — for the second, the fifth, the fiftieth time — let us remember: you are not standing far off. You are beside us in the dust, offering your hand.

Amen.