The Burden
"Why was my burden so heavy?" I slammed the
bedroom door and leaned against it. Is there no
rest from this life? I wondered. I stumbled to my
bed and dropped onto it, pressing my pillow
around my ears to shut out the noise of my
existance. "Oh God, I cried,"let me sleep, Let me
sleep forever and never wake up!"
With a deep sob I tried to will myself into
oblivion, then welcomed the darkness that came
over me. Light surrounded me as I regained
consciousness. I focused on it's source: the
figure of a man standing before a cross.
"My child," the person asked, "why do
you want to come to Me before I am ready to call
you?"
"Lord, I'm sorry. It's just that...I can't
go on. You see how hard it is for me. Look at
this awful burden on my back. I simply can't
carry it anymore."
"But haven't I told you to cast all of your
burdens upon Me, because I care for you? My yoke
is easy, and My burden is light."
"I knew You would say that. But why does mine
have to be so heavy?"
"My child, everyone in the world has a burden.
Perhaps you would like to try a different
one?"
"I can do that?"
He pointed to several burdens lying at His
feet. "You may try any of
these." All of them seemed to be of equal
size. But each was labeled with a name.
"There's Joan's," I said. Joan was married
to a wealthy businessman. She lived in a
sprawling estate and dressed her three daughters
in the prettiest designer clothes. Sometimes she
drove me to church in her Cadillac when my car
was broken down. "Let me try that one.", How
difficult could her burden be? I thought.
The Lord removed my burden and placed Joan's
on my shoulder's. I sank to my knees beneath it's
weight.
"Take it off!" I said. "What makes it so
heavy?" "Look inside."
I untied the straps and opened the top.
Inside was a figure of her Mother-in-law, and
when I lifted it out, it began to speak...."Joan,
you'll never be good enough for my son," it
began. "He never should have married you. You're
a terrible mother to my grandchildren..."
I quickly placed the figure back in the pack
and withdrew another. It was Donna, Joan's
youngest daughter. Her head was bandaged from the
surgery that failed to resolve her epilepsy. A
third figure was Joan's brother. Addicted to
drugs, he had been convicted of killing a police
officer.
"I see why her burdens are so heavy, Lord.
But she's always smiling and helping others. I
didn't realize..."
"Would you like to try another?" He asked
quietly. I tested several. Paula's felt heavy.
She was raising four small boys without a father.
Deborah's did too, a childhood of sexual abuse
and a marriage of emmotional abuse. When I came
to Ruth's burden, I didn't even try. I knew that
inside I would find arthritis, old age, a
demanding full-time job, and a beloved husband in
a nursing home.
"They're all too heavy, Lord," I said. "Give
back my own." As I lifted the familiar load once
again it seemed much lighter than the others.
"Let's look inside," He said.
I turned away, holding it close. "That's not
a good idea," I said. "Why?"
"There's a lot of junk in there"
"Let Me see."
The gentle thunder of His voice compelled me. I
opened my burden. He picked out a stone.
"Tell Me about this one"
"Lord, You know. It's money. I know we don't
suffer like people in some countries or even the
homeless here in America. But we have no
insurance, and when the kids get sick, we can't
always take them to the doctor. They've never
been to a dentist. And I'm tired of dressing them
in hand-me-downs."
"My child, I will supply all of your
needs...and your children's. I've given them
healthy bodies. I will teach them that expensive
clothing doesn't make a person valuable in My
sight."
Then He lifted out the figure of a small
boy. "And this?" He asked. "Andrew..." I
hung my head, ashamed to call my son a burden.
"But, Lord, he's hyperactive. He's not quiet like
the other two. he makes me so tired. He's always
getting hurt, and someone is bound to think I
abuse him. I yell at him all the time. Someday I
may really hurt him..."
"My child," He said, "if you trust Me, I will
renew your strength, if you allow Me to fill you
with My Spirit, I will give you patience."
Then He took some pebbles from my burden.
"Yes, Lord," I said with a sigh. "Those are
small. But they're important. I hate my hair.
It's thin, and I can't make it look nice. I can't
afford to go to the beauty shop. I'm overweight
and can't stay on a diet. I hate all my clothes.
I hate the way I look!"
"My child, people look at your outward
appearance, but I look at your heart. By My
Spirit you can gain self-control to lose weight.
But your beauty should not come from outward
appearance. Instead, it should come from your
inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and
quiet spirit, which is of great worth in My
sight."
My burden now seemed lighter than before. "I
guess I can handle it now" I said.
"There is more," He said. "Hand Me that
last brick." "Oh, You don't have to take
that. I can handle it."
"My child, give it to Me."
Again His voice compelled me. He reached out
His hand, and for the first time I saw the ugly
wound.
"But Lord, this stone is so awful, so nasty,
so....Lord! What happened to Your hands? They are
so scarred!"
No longer focused on my burden, I looked for
the first time into His face. In His brow were
ragged scars--as though someone had pressed
thorns into His flesh.
"Lord,"I whispered. "What happened to You?"
His loving eyes reached into my soul.
"My child...you know. Hand Me the stone. It
belongs to Me. I bought it."
"How?" I asked
"With my blood."
"But why, Lord?"
"Because I loved you with an everlasting love.
Give it to Me." I placed the filthy stone
into His wounded palm. It contained all
the dirt and evil of my life: my pride, my
selfishness, my secret sins, the depression that
constantly tormented me. He turned to the cross
and hurled my stone into the pool of blood at its
base. It hardly made a ripple.
"Now My child, you need to go back. I will be
with you always. When you are troubled, call to
Me and I will help you and show you things you
cannot imagine now."
"Yes, Lord, I will call upon You."
I reached to pick up my burden.
"You may leave that here if you wish. You see
all these other burdens? They are the ones that
others have left at My feet. Joan's, Paula's,
Debra's, Ruth's....When you leave your burden
here, I carry it with you. Remember, My yoke is
easy and My burden is light."
As I place my burden with Him, the light
began to fade. Yet I heard Him whisper, "I
will never leave you, nor forsake you."
A peace flooded my soul."
"Come to Me, all you who are weary and
burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke
upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and
humble in heart, and you will find rest for your
souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is
light."
Matthew 11:28-30
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