THE BURDEN
- author unknown
"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.
"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 and 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 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 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.
(Matthew 11:28)
