I can’t begin to count how many times I’ve taken what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I do this in every area of life, from trying to control a situation or set of circumstances—like the stress of household finances or my child’s grades and school performance—to taking on friends’ hardships, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?
We were never meant to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. It cripples and disappoints, creating discouragement, sleepless nights, and emotional turmoil. Heaping this weight on ourselves bears anger, resentment, fear, anxiety, stress, comparison, and jealousy—and that awful feeling that we can’t be everything to everyone, even though we try and try and try. I am tired and worn out just writing this!
This kind of heavy living is not the way of our Lord. Jesus said this:
“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, 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, NASB
Jesus knew we would live under the daily weight of our idols of self-entitlement and our illusions of control, trying to play savior to ourselves and others. He knew the burdens of life would have crushing effects, so He taught and challenged His disciples to follow His lead, practicing the disciplines that keep us in relationship with God.
I'm about to head into a marathon of doctors appointments tonight, Friday night. I meet with my radiation oncologist on Friday, my radiation nurse meets with my privately on Friday to review my symptoms, my therapists meet with me to analyze the radiation treatment and then I go through my normal radiation appointment. Then I come home to take the pile of chemo pills. I think they will review my first round of blood work as well tonight.
The good news is that I'm just about finished with week 2. I tried to explain to a new friend this week how I'm feeling because she was wondering if I really feel great or if it's a show that I put on to keep myself together. I told her that I really do feel great, but everything is in waves. I went for a long run this week in the sunshine and I went shopping downtown and I felt really great. And then today I came home from the store and I physically couldn't stay up and I had to lie down which ended up in a 3 hour nap.
Some mothers and families here in our neighborhood have really rallied around us and while I really want to say no to the help and I really want to do it all myself, when meatloaf, spinach salad, and fresh bread from the bakery showed up on my door today I was oh so grateful. Another new friend is taking the kids tonight to watch a movie while we go to our appointments and yet another friend will have them next Tuesday as I go to 3:45 and 6:45 appointments on opposite ends of town. So, most of the time I feel absolutely fantastic and then I hit a wall and I rest. And when I do feel well I am going to continue to get out and exercise and walk and run and shop and do things that give me strength and energy because I need that fuel to keep trudging through these appointments.
I feel so odd at this point in my life, almost as if I'm an outsider looking in. For my pastoral colleagues this is the busiest week of the year coming up, a marathon of services and expectations and the culmination of everything we believe and I won't be leading or teaching or serving at any worship services. There is definitely an emptiness surrounding that piece in my heart right now. I remember working so hard at this point last year on a Good Friday service that blended modern poetry with the last words of Jesus, only to have the air conditioning unit in the sanctuary come on and blow out all of the candles I had so carefully placed in line. I spent my holy week with the preschoolers making resurrection rolls in the church basement and I watched their shocked little faces as they saw that the tomb was empty. I haven't found my bin of Easter baskets in our basement yet and I'll be the recipient of the generosity of another amazing friend who offered to prepare the Easter meal. The weariness and the joy are interwoven, but I don't think that is unique to my circumstances. There is great weariness in caring for a newborn and inexpressible joy. There is great weariness in a routine workweek and a satisfaction of completion. How can I not find great joy in such an outpouring of love and care for our family, even in the middle of such a trying time?
And so, with each hesitant comb of my hair I am grateful that my symptoms have been so mild and I'll humbly accept the generosity of my community. How odd that so much of my being wishes it wasn't this way and yet so much of me knows that this is exactly how life was meant to be... full of love and support and care and concern for each other... genuine and pure, ever reminded that we weren't meant to carry it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment