| Subject: Re: The Burden |
Author:
Pastor Dave
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Date Posted: 07:03:23 05/09/02 Thu
Author Host/IP: dial-156.r99.scptvl.infoave.net/207.144.254.156
In reply to:
ryan
's message, "The Burden" on 21:24:40 05/07/02 Tue
>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 it's 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
>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 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 that 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 for 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. "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)
Thanks Ryan, I enjoyed that very much. Please post again soon.
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