on letting go

I lay there,
overwhelmed,
so tired.

It's a lot.
The thousand things I should be doing,
should be thinking about,
going,
going.
They pull and tug.

I know that He's in this,
always has his hand in this,
is working,

but I'm so tired.

I write out my fear, my exhaustion,
black on cream page.

Help me.
Oh, Abba,
help me.

That's where I am,
laying there.
Trying for still,
trying to hear.

It's hard to hear when you feel like you are drowning.

He comes,
doesn't speak right away,
just holds me,
lets me pour out my grief,
my foolish fears,
and he holds me close.

And then He whispers,
and I hear Him tell me that He's there,
always has been
and he says
Come to me,
all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you.
Let me teach you,
because I am humble and gentle at heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
{Mathew 11:28-29}

I want that rest so badly.
I am so afraid to give up my burden.
Foolish, yes?  :)

I know.
I tell him that.

He asks to take it,
to let me try,
and to let him carry it.

I bend down, loosen the straps,
and slip out from underneath the crushing weight.
I uncurl my hands,
knuckles white from strain,
and
let go.

It's yours,
I whisper.

Now?
He's given me peace,
rest,
friends who know,
joy,
and Hope.


The knowledge I'm not alone, and it is His.

I still have the moments I want to swing it back up onto my back,
stoop under the weight,
just because it would feel like I'm doing something.

There's a reason He calls us sheep.
Sheep are stupid.

Remembering today,
it's all his.
All is grace.

Love:)

R