“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 New International Version)
No intermediary needed, it is He, this very One, who bids me to come. My mind recalls lines from a few hymns…
Where could I go but to the Lord?
Does Jesus care, oh Yes He cares, I know He cares...
I must tell Jesus, I must tell Jesus.
Just as I am…oh Lamb of God, I come, I come!
Oh, these old hymns are rich and full of treasure for the longing soul, and I am grateful to know these colorful poems where I find You on every line. (I think I will choose one of them for my daily hum...)
So simple. All. Come.
The one who gives aid from a battered, near-empty bucket,
The one who cannot see the end to the journey she’s been on for long years,
The one who serves unseen, unknown except by the One who has called her to this service,
The one who works against the Darkness into the dark night hours,
The one who sleeps with restless, dream-troubled children,
The one who wakes before dawn to serve again.
the weighed down one, the heavy ladened,
The one bearing a load she may not have chosen,
a load that is getting heavier with each passing day even as her strength diminishes,
the one bent beneath a pack crammed with rags, trudging uphill through heavy rain, soaked to the soul, pelted with hail and taking on water.
This is the one who hears the gentle words, "Come,"
Yes, this words is for every weary wanderer in a bewildering world - "Come."
None other needed.
These words are too familiar to the weary, burdened one. She lives her life surrounded by demands to give.
Give. Do. Give. Help. Give. Go.
Give. Give. Give.
Like the sound of her own heartbeat, the voices never stop.
But this Voice is different. She hears, "Come, I will give you…" and it stops her in her tracks.
She wonders at the wonder of it. Jesus wants to give me something?
She is breathless with desperate hope---what will He give?
Her knees buckle under the weight of her longing, the longing of her wait.
Is it even possible? Allowable? For her? Here? Now?
And so she comes, hesitantly, haltingly, hopefully. She is bowed down, eyes to the ground, ladened with packs and bundles and parcels. Tentatively she begins to off load all that has been added as she journeyed to this moment. She unties the cords, unwraps the many sacks. She picks up speed as one by one, the pieces of her load slip to the ground; the pile grows to an enormous mound.
Where did it all come from? It seems unbelievable, unbearable. Was she really carrying this load? How did she even move?
But now, her back straightens, the deep furrow in her brow softens.
she raises her arms,
she lifts her face and her lips form a wobbly smile.
Jesus beams, and something is unleashed in her.
She tilts back her head and laughs and it is like the music of a rain tumbled stream after long drought.
Jesus is laughing too.
Jesus walks to the long shafts waiting on the ground. Easily, wordlessly, He lifts them and beckons her to stand beside Him. And then He speaks:
She falls into step beside Him in a place that seems made for her.
She learns the cadence of the road from Him, steady, unwavering, unforced.
She is free to look about, but mostly she loves to watch His face.
Trees proffer cool shade for pause, and just when she starts to think of water, He stops beside a stream.
They talk, or not, as they travel the road together.
It’s true, she thinks to herself.
He is gentle and humble in heart.
He smiles at her just then, for he knows her musings.
She moves forward with trust and hope, for she doesn’t walk alone.
And, she has found rest for her soul.
She meets his gaze and nods in agreement with his words:
For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
The journey continues... HumminB