You can know that I do understand the paces you go through. I understand your heartaches and that you have them. I know how it is, and yet I do not commiserate. I do not pat you on the back and say, "There, there." I do not say, "You poor thing."

I straighten up your backbone. I say, "Keep going. Keep going." I say, "Pick yourself up. Rub the dirt off your scraped knee, and stand up."

If you were Rocky, the boxer, and you were knocked down even for the tenth time, I would say to you, "Get up."

No matter what might knock you off your feet, I would say to you, "Get up."

I would not waste your heart nor Mine on commiseration. I would not say, "Stay down until you feel better." I might say, "Take a few moments, catch your bearings, and now get up and stand upright." I would ask you not to be laid low. I would say, "Rise high."

Do not interpret this as to mean that I lack compassion. What else is there to say to you but to get up? And to get up again and again?

You perceive that you have been knocked down. No matter how many punches you may have felt, the punches do not have the say over you. The blows do not have to be the traction for your life. However life may seem to deal with you, it is not to hold you down. You must get up, beloveds. You are someone who makes his way in life. You are a hero, and you do as heroes do.

No matter how many ribs may have been broken, heroes get up anyway. And if they have broken legs, heroes may have to lie down for a while, but their minds and hearts have gotten up long before their legs can walk. Even immobile, they are marching. Heroes are undaunted. And so must you be.

On a scale of virtues, pity ranks low, and self-pity ranks very low. Pity is a time-waster. It is staying in place. It really is no comfort. It has no virtue at all.

Sometimes you may have a toothache, and your tongue keeps moving over the tooth, and I suppose there is a certain comfort every time the tongue touches the pain, but is it comfort or is it rather fascination? Be fascinated instead with the idea of getting out from where you may be feeling sorry for yourself.

When you were a child and fell off your bike, you got up and rode it again. No one would have said, "Bad bike. What a dreadful thing happened! You poor thing. Don't ride your bike again. You have been damaged. Walk, don't ride from now on."

Think of what a world this would be if no one felt sorry for himself or for another. Then people would begin to show their worth. They would begin to see their worth themselves. There would be no wounded, for everyone would get up. In the getting up is the healing.

You have a reserve of strength, and it does not get used up. You are strong, and you are resilient, beloveds. You have strength of character. You have strength of determination. You don't stay down. You get up. You pull yourself up, and you pull the world with you. You throw off burdens. What was once does not have to be now.