“My yoke is easy and my burden is light...”

I was walking in to work this morning, or hobbling in, as I do most mornings, from the parking deck to my office. I carry a huge purse (have you seen the preview from one of the new cable network shows, where one woman asks her friend, “Is that a purse or housing for a family of four?”)…I love that line…yeah, well you get the idea! Also, I carry a giant black tote bag. That’s my brain…one planner with the bills I owe, one planner with my 11-year old son’s schedule (school events, practices, games, etc.), and miscellaneous work stuff that I generally wag home to do at night, then wag back to work the next morning, ‘cause I never got around to it. Surely I’m not the only one who operates that way. Oh, and I forgot to mention my food…all my rice diet stuff…rice, veggies, fruit, diet sodas, etc. Surely my stuff weighs nearly as much as a yearling calf! Anyway, that’s the reason for the hobbling (struggling under the great weight of all the stuff that accompanies me to work and back each day).

As I’m thinking, “just a few more steps to the door…just a few more steps to the elevator…just a few more steps to my office…” it hits me! We get just as weighed down by our spiritual burdens as our physical ones, just like that tacky old black bag. I’m sure my worries weigh just as much as the stuff I carry in and out each day. And I always carry those concerns around like contingency plans...the ones that I just might need to think about tonight, or tomorrow morning, or next week.

I really NEED to leave some of that stuff behind. I just need to tell my Father that I need His help carrying things, then load Him up in prayer…and then let Him lift them from me. I think I’ll shoot for that…I’ll probably keep carrying my food, tho…

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30

Falling in love again...

Last night, just about bedtime, KP was sitting in the "music room," plunking on his dad's acoustic guitar, and singing in his almost-changing 11-year-old voice. Some of the chords were a little iffy, and the lyrics were not a whole lot better. "Mom, come listen," came the call, and I went, awaiting my own personal preview of this ballad he'd been creating. He was just as proud as punch of his creation, which we together named, "The Chili Dog Blues." After my private concert, he called his dad in for a second show. Dad reminded him that he was late for bedtime, but dutifully listened.

I was busy in the kitchen, and trying to catch the last few minutes of my favorite TV show as well, but I have to admit I felt a little pride just knowing that he had called me first. He wasn't afraid to hit a few sour notes in front of me because he knew instinctively that mom's ears are a bit more forgiving and that she'll always give him encouragement and praise. I was glad that I stopped for that moment, even though I had a thousand things to do before my own bedtime. I knew that these moments between us are precious...he'll be grown before I know it, and I'll miss that little voice and those silly, made-up songs.

I've thought a lot about that lately...and I fall in love with him over and over again. I can still see in him the baby that we adopted, but I'm catching glimpses of the young man he's soon to become. I think of the future he dreams of, the future we plan for him, and the plans the Father has already made for him.

"Lord, watch over this beautiful boy...and help us to nourish and cultivate the seeds we've planted. Help us to be brave as we see him straining toward adulthood. Guard his heart as the world presses in upon him, and let us continue to fill him with the promise that we have through your Son, Jesus Christ."

Later,

MamaRan