Some days are soul-sucking days. Sometimes I feel so defeated, so deflated. Sometimes the drudgeries of daily life and the trials this nomadic, temporary, earthly life bring weigh me down so much.
Sometimes I feel like the Bearer of All Burdens.
Like that guy in the movie The Green Mile, who takes everyone's pain into himself. He heals them, but at a terrible cost to himself.
For me there are the kids, and the husband, and friends, and HEY, I've got problems too you know! I am the sounding wall, I am a comforter, supporter, boo-boo fixer, ouchie kisser, referee, listening ear...
The funny thing is though... It's not really my job to be the Bearer of All Burdens. Um, that's actually God's job.
1 Peter 5:7 tells us to
"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you."
You'd think I'd be relieved, right, to pass all that onto Him, to cast my cares at his feet and melt into his glorious Rest? So why is it I sometimes find myself hoarding my problems and everyone else's like some greedy pack rat? To my own destruction, until it is all toppling over and crushing me underneath?
My two year old daughter is quite a character. I usually say I love the "terrific twos" because seriously it is one of my favorite ages. Two year olds are just so darn funny! And cute. And silly. But often... They're also really angsty. They get frustrated so easily. They want to do BIG things all by themselves and sometimes they just can't! They need help but they DON"T WANT IT! They have BIG feelings and huge thoughts but they can't seem to express them and this makes them sooooo MAD!!!
I'm always there for my baby/not-so-baby girl. But sometimes she just doesn't want my help. If it's something she really can't do or really can't express she might get upset. Really upset. And if she's been hurt in some way it's the same story.
"Come here, come let me hold you, come cry on my shoulder. Let me rock you, sing to you, snuggle you. Here I am."
Sometimes she doesn't want my comfort. She'll let me know in no uncertain terms.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Maybe she struggles, maybe she pushes me away, maybe she lays down on the floor and sobs.
I don't understand why. But I am here. My arms are ready and waiting. My voice is soft and it coaxes her.
Finally she will collapse on my lap, pressing her tear-stained face to my chest. Then we'll laugh because, Hey! She's wiping her tears all over me! She might dissolve into giggles then, or need more time to sit quietly hugging me until she feels better. She is so relieved, and it was so easy! So why did she not come to me earlier? I don't know.
Or maybe I do.
I think sometimes our burdens are a crown, a kind of idol that we have a hard time giving up, even though we are promised rest when we do. We are greedy, like Golem, desperately holding onto the things that would be our destruction.
"No, it's mine! All mine!... My Precious"
Instead we must give them up, free our hands to cling to the one who would wipe our tears away and envelope us into his loving rest. It's... It's a humbling thing. But like little toddlers we must fall into his embrace and let him handle all of our cares as he comforts us.
Will you join me today in casting your burdens on Him? In opening up your hands... And letting go?
Let us climb into our
Abba's lap and enjoy Him this day.
Psalm 55:22 "Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken."
