“You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.” She was so sweet. I didn’t know if she knew I had been crying. Even before she pressed down to release the tension I was on the brink of waterfalls. I put my head in the pillow and breathed deep before she entered the room, as deep as I could, with so much weight on my chest. My lungs felt tight and my heart physically ached. For Mother’s Day she used the good smelling oils. I breathed in their sweet scent and as she pressed and worked, the tears flowed. I was thankful I was face down.
For Mother’s Day I got the day off. I felt a little guilty not being with the babies but quickly got over it when the Fly surprised me with an extravagant and lavish day away. Off I went to relax and refresh...to be still and be quiet.
As I enjoyed the day set aside for me the words above danced around my head and my heart. Burden bearing had been set in my DNA as my mother carried me and God knit me together in her womb. (You can ask her. She will tell you, “Allison wears her heart on her sleeve.”)
I know it is a calling and a gift, however, used improperly, it can become dangerous. It can begin to suffocate with thoughts of worry, anxiety or even self-pity...to which all of these I am guilty of. On this day I was learning all over again how important it is to lay the burden back down, at the feet of the only One who can lift it.
“You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“Wait,” I wanted to say. “That’s not how it is supposed to be.” But instead all that came out was a choked, “Thank you...” I wasn’t sure if I was thanking her for noticing or thanking her for helping.
As I walked out my shoulders were looser but my heart was heavier.
I know better. I know what His Word says...He is supposed to carry the burden...so why am I not letting Him? Why am I holding on to the hurt and the pain and not trusting that God will take care, perform His Word, rescue and restore?
My heart knows I am not the Savior but my head betrays me. My heart holds on and my mind wanders as it wonders if I pray one more time, if I say the right thing, if I hope hard enough all the pain, all the hurt, all the wrong will turn right. So I walk through my days, heart at war with my head, fighting to trust the one who says, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
This morning a dear friend, a “mama-hearted” woman who loves me like one of her own daughters, sent me a text. She had been praying for me. Oh, to know someone has been praying for you! It said,
How does one walk lightly through a day when everywhere you look there are people broken, including yourself and those you love the most? How do you care about the things Jesus cares about and at the same time lay the cares down at His feet?
The only way is to know Jesus and then know Him more and then know Him more.
I can only let things go if I trust there is Someone who will care more than I care.
I can only lay a burden down at the feet of Someone who will pick it right back up and carry it for me.
I can only begin to breathe deeply again when I know that there is Someone whose heart breaks for the broken pieces.
I have to remember and be reminded through His Word, the words of others and my own story that I am not the Savior but He is the One who Saves and I only care because He cared first.
What Love is This?
He already carried the burden to Calvary. I am now blessed to play a role in bringing the good news of what He did to the broken. No, I am not the Savior, I am the saved. I am one who has been restored, resurrected and brought into Life.
That Mother’s Day Massage was what I needed without knowing I needed it. Once again, whether he knew it or not the Fly played a role in my rescue. As the knots wore down with the pressure I was forced to be reminded of my frailty. I am not designed to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was designed to point people to the One who actually did carry it.
And, Oh Praise Him, for it.
Thank you, Jesus.