Fast to Undo the Heavy Burdens

I realized in the car today (all my best life-altering realizations come either in Liturgy or while driving long distances) that I am carrying something heavy. I am carrying something that weighs more than I can bear. And I found myself looking up to heaven and asking God to take it.

I could complete the cliche and pretend that immediately He lifted the burden and my heart soared with joy and relief. But that's not what happened. I dedicated this burden to Him, and He... sort of rubbed an empty spot in the window of my heart and revealed a little sorrow.

Apparently, sometimes when you carry something heavy for a long time, and then you give it up, you just feel tired and sorrowful. You sit next to it and look over in the passenger seat and wonder about this burden that has been your companion. Like Stockholm syndrome, you feel alone without your worry to keep you company. You come to love--in a sick, unhealthy way--the weight you drag with you. Like a hoarder, you feel incomplete without stacking up the pain.

Christ said, "Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28). Rest. Not instant joy and relief. Rest. And rest is time to heal.

I am grateful now that the burden isn't on my shoulders, isn't in my heart. If I can sit across the table from it, maybe we can have an honest conversation where I really put it in its place. I can look in my life at the dusty corner where this giant boxed burden used to sit. I can scrub it clean and put something beautiful there, like a small desk and a vase of flowers. Something to actually encourage joy and relief.