There is a certain heaviness to life. Though not always the weight of the world on your shoulders, there is definitely a weight. Maybe it’s the weight of our decisions, the heaviness from loss, or simply the presence of gravity….there seems to be, more often than not, a pulling of us to the ground….
…As if the enemy himself knows how easy it is for us to lay down amongst our hurt and stay there.
There is a certain heaviness to life. We feel joy and pain in unison, knowing we can’t escape one or the other as long as we’re breathing. We hurt because we’re alive. We smile because…we’re alive. We hurt because we know the light that was, and laugh because we know the darkness from which we’ve come.
There is a certain heaviness to life. A constant struggle between good and evil. And we question: should we rejoice for the awareness and reversal of the evil, or despair for the gravity of all the evil that is being discovered? We pride ourselves in selflessness yet known we had to first overcome our selfishness.
There is a certain heaviness to life. And it is very certain. And while some recognize the heaviness, they are quick to push it aside, quickly out of sight. They’re only pushing it to their backs, creating their own luggage that is carried around for years. Though maybe suppressed to them, it hasn’t disappeared, for we learn to know: what is seen can’t be unseen, what is experienced can’t be erased…our pasts have a way of catching up to us if we don’t take care of them when they were in the present. We can push our darkness and heaviness off to be ignored, but it will still remain…heavy. It isn’t until we take time to sit through the hard, unpack our packs, one memory at a time, giving each to Christ, that the load gets lighter. Did we forget that His yoke is supposed to be easy, and His burden supposed to be light?
…Not because He always takes us out of our heaviness, but because He carries the load for us.
There is a certain heaviness to life. Some try to avoid it by never opening their hearts to loving, which really is never opening their lives to living…but they go on to live lives unsatisfied and unloved. We grow to learn this too…you can’t love with half a heart and call it a whole experience.
Giving half of yourself leaves you with more of a hole than the whole.
You can’t love and hope to never be hurt…the heaviness comes with the life. If you’ve experienced the heaviness of loss, perhaps you’ve been lucky enough to experience the fullness of love.
Don’t walk away from this life out of fear of the heaviness. Learn how to grow within it.
Maybe your weight on your shoulders takes on the shape of the small income with the growing family, the addiction that’s hurting the relationship, or the loss of your loved one after the health crisis. Maybe your heaviness looks like the hurt coming home to you everyday with closed ears but an open mouth. Maybe your weight appears in the anxiety keeping you awake at night, the division in our country, the children dying across the globe, or the identity loss during postpartum depression. Christ didn’t only come to pay a ransom for our sins, but to heal what was broken, bringing light from every darkness. But before He sacrificed Himself for us, He became human, and entered into the joy, the pain, the love, the loss…the human life. He knows, not just with sympathy, but with empathy. Not just with words to advise, but with arms to hold. He knows the weight of our burdens, even more, He knows the weight of the world when he took it on the cross. He beckons for us to come close so that He can show us His ever strong arms, if we’ll only surrender it all to Him.
We can’t escape the heaviness that is life, but we can look at it and recognize the ways we need to act. If anything, each and every heavy story we carry only reminds us to turn to Him. To give to Him, to be held by Him. And repeat, every single time.