Burdens

I wonder how many of us are carrying secret burdens because we have this mentality of “I don’t want to be a burden to anyone else” and “I have to bear this alone.”

I do think that’s one of the negative consequences of this kind of Lone Ranger/ pull yourself up by your own bootstraps kind of individualized American Christianity. Not only is it okay to share your burdens, it’s actually commanded both bear one another’s burdens.

That means you occasionally take someone else’s burden. Also, that means that another sometimes takes your burden. It works both ways. Not only are you making your own life harder by bearing unnecessary burdens but you also deprive someone else of the joy of fulfilling God’s command in that way.

That’s the most tangible way we have of showing our love for each other. And oh, by the way, how we love each other is the greatest witness to the saving power of Christ and the gospel that we have. The early Church turned the known world upside down by how they loved each other. Also by how they loved their neighbors but mainly by their sacrificial love for each other.

My prayer is that churches become places where we can unburden and find rest, not a place where more burdens are added. Part of it starts with the Church but part of it starts with you and I being willing to share our burden and let it be known that we’re struggling instead of the pat answer of “I’m fine” whenever anyone asks how we’re doing.

I think when I let you share my burden and you share mine, we learn a little more of what it means when Jesus bore all our burdens to Calvary. We understand more of what it means about His yoke is easy to carry and His burden is light. And the world sees a love that it simply cannot resist.

Telling Stories

“Child,’ said the Lion, ‘I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own” (C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy).

I’m beginning to understand that we all have different stories. We also have different seasons and struggles. I am in the middle of a career transition. I overheard where someone else has a parent dealing with a cancer diagnosis. Yet someone else I know has struggled within the past year with mental health issues.

Each story is different. Each struggle is unique. It’s no good for me to compare my story with someone else’s and to either think that mine doesn’t matter because it’s not a potentially terminal diagnosis or that I have it way worse because someone else might have an ingrown toenail.

The Bible doesn’t say God never gives us more than we can handle. Often, it’s way beyond our capacity to bear so that we are forced to lean in on the Lord for daily strength. He does give us grace equal to the struggle. He does promise to be with us in each season.

In each story, the testimony is that God is able. I am in as much need of God’s continual grace and strength as anyone else alive right now on this planet. My need is no more or less than theirs. And my God is equally up to the task.

That’s the beauty of intercessory prayer. I enter into your story and you enter into mine. We share each others burdens and magnify the name of Jesus equally. Sometimes, we can speak words when the other has none or believe for the other when they can’t find the faith at the moment.

The best part is that God is always the hero of our stories and we can rest assured that in every case we know that God works all things together for good and for a happy ending.

Downton Abbey, Or Why I Fell for All The Hype

DowntonAbbey

I didn’t know what to make of the show Downton Abbey. At first, I kept thinking it was Downtown Abbey, which sounded like one of those murder-mystery series featuring a crime-solving nun (who would also happen to have quite the British wit about her).

But I borrowed the first two seasons from a friend and now I’m hooked. It’s a little like all those period films like Howard’s End and Gosford Park, but the storyline is unique. And Maggie Smith is completely fantastic as always.

My favorite part is when Bates throws his leg brace into the lake. He had been going about his business, grimacing a lot and telling the others that he was perfectly fine. He was not.

I wonder how many times I’ve done that, carrying around a lot of secret pain and guilt and telling everyone who asked, “Oh, I’m fine.”

Or maybe it’s a secret struggle that you carry around. One that you’re sure you’re the only one who’s ever had to wrestle with. It could be a shameful mistake you can’t forgive yourself over. It could be words better left unspoken (or maybe words left unspoken that you wish you’d said).

The best part is that you don’t have to carry this load alone. You can find others who understand and share your burdens. Best of all, God already knows what you’re trying to hide. He’s known it all along. And that thunderbolt of judgment hasn’t struck you yet.

Confession really is good for the soul. I don’t mean blabbing your troubles to a stranger on the street. I do mean finding a good trusted friend and letting him or her know what you’re going through. I do mean being honest to God in prayer about it all.

I love the saying that goes something like this: “Griefs shared are divided, while joys shared are multiplied.”

May you find this to be true for you in the days to come.

 

Carried

“When you can’t run, you crawl, and when you can’t crawl – when you can’t do that… You find someone to carry you” (from an episode of Firefly).

I was watching one of my favorite TV series tonight (and yet another great series that the Fox Network killed way too soon– but that’s another blog for another day) and I heard this quote and it made me think of the Church.

The Apostle Paul speaks about us being in a race, a race that we should seek to run well. He speaks about how we train our bodies so we will finish well. Obviously, this isn’t a literal race, but the live of faith lived with a finish line in view.

Sometimes, when we can’t run any longer, we crawl. Maybe we’re exhausted or burned out or wonded or have lost our way. Whatever the case, every single one of us will at times find ourselves crawling.

Sometimes, we can’t even crawl. We’ve come to the end of our abilities and have no strength or energy to move one more inch. That’s when someone else has to carry us. And we have to be humble and honest enough to ask.

Scripture calls us to carry each other’s burdens. Sometimes that means we carry each other. It means we believe for others when they can’t believe for themselves about getting through a trial or tragedy or test.

If you think of prayer that way, it really does change your perspective. Prayer is not saying kind words about someone else to God, but rather taking that person to God. You can almost visualize carrying that person on your back into the very presence of Jesus Himself.

I’ve always loved the poem Footprints and especially the image of only one set of footprints in the sand being the times when God has carried us. If we’re honest, there’s not one moment when we are not completely taken care of, deeply loved, and carried by Abba Father.

May that be the last image you have before sleep and dreams take you tonight.

 

 

A Prayer for My Friends Tonight

God, I bring my friends before you tonight. I know that You know what they need better than I do and even better than they do.

God, they are burdened and heavy-laden with work and with school, with spouses and with romantic relationships, with family and friends.

Grant them Your perfect peace tonight and enfold them in Your arms so that they can feel You near to know that You are just as near when they can’t feel You.

Grant them the joy than transcends circumstances and events, good or bad. Joy that can only come from You and that other people can only attribute to You.

Give them wisdom in their friendships. Bring people into their lives who will draw out the God-colors in them and inspire them to hunger and thirst after righteousness and to above all yearn for Jesus more than life itself.

Remove the people who hinder them being who You called them to be. Lord, even me, if I am a hindrance to Your work in their lives. Give them the grace to let the people go who You take out of their existance.

Above all, give them a single passion and vision: to follow hard after You, regardless of what it costs or what anyone else around them thinks. May they see only You and love only You. May their love for others be Your love flowing through them.

Lord, cause Your face to shine on them and be gracious to them. Take them to the lowliest people and let them be Your hands and feet to those who will never be able to repay what You do to them through my friends.

I pray for success and prosperity and good fortune for my friends. More than that, I pray intimacy and a deeper, wilder love for You, even if it comes at the expense of success and prosperity and good fortune.

Thank You for my friends. May they know how grateful I am. Much more than that, may they know each and every day and all through the night how You love them and how fond You are of them and how You call them beloved and how You are their Abba Father. May they each hear the sweet sound of You singing with joy over them in the deep waches of the night.

That’s my prayer for them tonight. Amen.

He giveth more grace (featuring a surprise guest blogger!)

Ok, not really. It’s still me, but I am including a bit of poetry (not mine) in this blog, because it so profoundly affected me when I heard it tonight at Kairos Roots. Here it is. May it affect you like it did me and make you more thankful and grateful to our great God! Here is her story and then her poem will follow (I copied and pasted her story. Shh! Don’t tell anyone!)

“Annie Flint was born in the Johnston home where she lost her mother, then shortly after lost her father too and was raised by the Flint family. After she graduated from college, she contracted arthritis in one of its most crippling forms and lay in bed for not one or two years, but for decades of her life. And if that wasn’t bad enough she lost control of her internal organs and to her utter embarrassment had to live on diapers for many years of her life. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough she began to become blind and cancer began to take its toll…according to one eyewitness, who wrote a book(called Making of the Beautiful), the last time he saw her, she had seven pillows cushioning her body from keeping the sores from inflicting indescribable agony.

In the midst of all that, she wrote this beautiful poem:

‘He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow’r has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!'”

Annie Johnson Flint