The Burden
Why not leave it here?
So full, of so much. The days upon days have weighed and pressed in. Now I scarcely see the beauty around me in this forest as I walk.
With all my cares stacked on my shoulders, and hands full of woe, I look down at my feet, step by slow step.
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I could leave it all here by the roadside. What is stopping me?
Let me become empty, that my hands are open and my shoulders light. Let my back straighten and my step quicken.
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These burdens were all imaginary.
Today, Lord, let me not pick up imaginary burdens.
– from the mountain
Consider:
What am I carrying that feels burdensome, yet is imaginary?
Reading:
“The righteous cry, and the Lord heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.” — Psalm 34:17 (KJV)
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