~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 existence.

"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 blackness
that came over me.

Light surrounded me as
I regained consciousness.
I focused on its source:
the figure of a man
standing before a cross.

"My child,"
the person asked,
"why did 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.

"Why 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.

"Let me try that one."
How difficult could her burden be?
I thought.
The Lord removed my burden
and placed Joan's on my shoulders.
I sank to my knees beneath its 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 had 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 burden is 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.

Debra's did too:
a childhood of sexual abuse
and a marriage of emotional 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.
"Lets 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 pulled out a brick.
"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 brick is so awful,
so nasty, so.....Lord!
What happened to Your hands?
They're 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 brick.
It belongs to Me.
I bought it."

"How?"
"With My blood."
"But why, Lord?"
"Because I have loved you
with an Everlasting Love.
Give it to Me."

I placed the filthy brick
into His wounded palm.
It contained all the dirt
and evil of my life:
my pride, my selfishness,
the depression that
constantly tormented me.

He turned to the cross
and hurled my brick
into the pool of blood at it's 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 on You."
I reached to pick up my burden.
"You may leave that here if you wish.
You see all these 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 placed 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.

~~ Author Unknown ~~

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