"Three months." That's what she says today, tears leaking. I listen, coffee steaming in the mug like prayers rising.
"It's three months, and we're all undone. I don't know why it's hitting us like this now, here." I feel it, too; tears leaking, heart paining. "The one," she nearly groans. "One gets up every morning and asks, 'Is he coming back today?'"
It's been three months since a third burial. Since hopes and dreams were lowered into earth, dirt raining down on a third child and son. Precious boy.
"I can't pray. Can't pray," she says. My own throat is tight; I can scarcely speak, but I see. Oh, I can see. "People tell me, 'You need to pray!'"
"Oh, don't," I murmur. "You don't have to. For I see you, tired mother, and I see Him. And He's carrying you. Rest. Just rest."
It's Saturday last. I'm up, alone. The family slumbers. House quiet, I steal outside, coffee in hand, for time with Him before I take to the road. The neighborhood is still. Birds sing, leaves stirring in a quiet breeze. Gazing across the vast back yard, my heart quiets, and I listen.
Listen and see. As though a movie reel is turning, I see a little girl, running, playing in the pasture sprawling past the big, red barn. Running, laughing with Elder Brother, Kinsman Redeemer, the Lord Christ.
Curls messy, small feet dusty, walking down a path together. One tiny hand tucked safely in a big strong one, it's Jesus and me. Only now, He's carrying a backpack.
I know that pack. It's mine, and in it are tucked hopes and dreams; hopes, dreams, and the tools I need to do the work He's called me to do. The work that's become a burden. The work that's cost blood, sweat, and tears. The work that demands near more than this girl can give right now; that's overwhelmed me into paralysis, discouragement stealing in. That pack, with all its burdens, all its hopes, all its dreams...it's on His back.
This morning, I know this - that Jesus carries, and Jesus saves. Whether it's a tired, broken mama who cannot walk herself or a heavy pack too large for one small back, Jesus takes the burden.
Are you the tired and broken? Carrying a load that breaks the back? There's this...I see Him. And you. You are loved. You are carried. You can rest, for He holds the burden, and He holds your hand.
Most warmly,
Rhonda
10 comments:
This is one of the most endearing posts I've ever read, anywhere. Thank you.
I ache for your grieving friend and her family. Will pray for them. A writer friend gave me advice after my Mom passed away - she told me to allow myself to grieve, and to rest. They were good and much needed words for that time. Perhaps your friend could benefit from them too. I think you were wise to share as you did.
Thank you for this, Rhonda. I needed it today.
Smiling and thinking of you,
Karen
Yes, I know about carrying grief. Resting in Him is a learned art. I say that because we want to be so independent at times when we need to sling that backpack off of our shoulders so that He can carry it for us. After almost 21 years I can still grieve, but He holds me and I rest in His arms. Praying for that dear mother.
I'm so blessed and encouraged by the "Coffee Shop Ministry" that God has brought into your life. As humbling as it may be, it is vital to His Kingdom work. May He give you all the grace and strength you need to continue.
Please tell that lady that we grieve in proportion to our love.
Tell her it's all right to grieve because Jesus told the people that he would comfort those who mourn. He will bless them.
We all have items in our backpack that Jesus carries for us. It's wonderful that He choses to carry them in our stead.
Sherry and Evelyn, if anyone knows what grief is, you girls do. Ah, my. And yet, in your lives, the light of Christ shines so powerfully, surely more so for that, in the grieving, you've found Him to be so faithful. Bless you.
QS, it is the most wonderful thing, this glorious truth that He carries. Thank you for caring about my friend.
Karen, I'm coming to see that Jesus is far gentler with us than we are with ourselves many times. Oh, if our hearts could always know the great tenderness He has, and His measureless understanding for His flock.
Such comfort in Him.
Makes me think of....
What a Friend we have in Jesus,
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer.
Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful
who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
take it to the Lord in prayer.
Are we weak and heavy laden,
cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge,
take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do your friends despise, forsake you?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In His arms He’ll take and shield you;
you will find a solace there.
Blessed Savior, Thou hast promised
Thou wilt all our burdens bear
May we ever, Lord, be bringing all to
Thee in earnest prayer.
Soon in glory bright unclouded there
will be no need for prayer
Rapture, praise and endless worship
will be our sweet portion there.
Perfect, Rebecca.
"But you, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand." - Psalm 10:14 NIV
This post is a blessing :)
Jim, very fitting. Thank you. I'm going to look that up over coffee in the morning.
Deb...I'm glad.
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