I’d taken off early this morning, chunky backpack with the girlish accents tucked in behind me, and headed for my favorite place in the world to create. I’d savored my coffee, freshly ground, alongside the Bread of Life, and I’d begun scratching out the next column, laughing out loud at a funny phrase that came.
Whirling through the bank for Boy Two, I’d just passed the place where Biggest Brother’s been working, noting that his car was parked just there in its spot. “Thank You, Lord, for his steady job. Continue granting favor…”
Driving home now, errands finished, I was talking out loud to The Friend, the One Who sticks closer than a brother, and that’s when it came. “I’ve been carryin’ it, Lord, and it’s breakin’ my back.”
“He’s too heavy for you. You’re not built to carry all that, you know.”
I knew the voice.
“The only thing I designed you for, little mother, is to carry him to Me.”
Silence as I absorbed this, the truth of it sinking deep. “Casting all your care,” the Word had said, “onto Him, for He careth for you.”
And I thought of you. If you’re like me, dear reader, then you’ve got a load, something heavy on your back, and you’re just plain tired.
Hear me, now: You’re not made for that. It’s far too big for you to carry. All you’re designed for – your very mission, in fact, is to carry it to Him. Cast it! Drop it at His feet, place it in His lap, and know that in the coming and the casting, He sees faith.
If all you’ve got is a mustard seed, come anyway. Come with that, for it’s faith He loves and faith He rewards. His back is big enough, His arms are strong enough, and His heart is wise enough to handle that thing that’s concerning you.
So come, dear friend. Come and cast, then rest.