I was listening to one of my favorite worship leaders this morning and was moved again as I recognized the depth of faith and commitment she has to her God. To my God. Living with a disease that brings with it daily pain and potentially mental exhaustion to the point of grief, she walks her journey with grace and hope, in spite of there being no evidence of relief in the natural.
I needed to hear the song of heaven she sings this morning, for I have also been weary with grief for the cross I pick up daily in my own travels. Like Paul, the thorn in my side often seems too heavy to continue to bear. (2 Corinthians 12:7)
In Matthew 11:30, Jesus admonishes us to trust that his yolk is easy and his burden is light. There are many things in this life we are yolked (connected) to. Some are chosen, others assigned, but regardless of what we carry, when we roll the heaviness onto the shoulders of our Savior, he will be faithful to carry the weight. I wonder what you might carry today –
addiction, grief, loss, chronic pain, resentment, bitterness, fear…
Nothing is too heavy for our Savior – but only we can make the decision to allow him to pick it up for us. Sometimes our greatest hindrance is the comfort that familiarity brings, in spite of our perceived desire to let it go. (John 5:6)
My favorite verse is 2 Timothy 1:7 – for God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. In 2 Corinthians 10:5, we are encouraged to “take captive” every thought – to speak over the broken player in our heads and to replace thoughts that are ungodly (which exalt themselves against the name of the Lord) with the promises and truths of God.
Whatever you carry today, know that He is able to handle the load. The thoughts, fears and ache that rose with the sun this morning can be gently assigned to our Jesus for the day. His mercies are new every, single, morning.
Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. – Lamentations 3:22-23
Rest, my friend.