Atlas carried the heavens, according to Greek Mythology, on his shoulders. The world literally rested on him as punishment by Zeus. Me, Lord knows, I'm just a mortal. I collapse underneath the weight sometimes. As all the pressure of this world weighs upon my shoulders. The heaviest weightlifting I ever did, doesn't even compare to the mass of worry that pulls down on my mind and heart. The demands of this life for your time, labor, money, and sadly your health takes its toll.
I see old men who have worn out their bodies and given up their youth to provide. As I age, mine aches at times. Often times, while struggling to get jump started on another day, the schedule comes out each and every day to be everything to everybody. Pushing yourself to the breaking point, and never really sure where that breaking point is.
Each day greeted with a new host of problems at work. Bosses demands to do more with less, difficult co-workers who slice at you whenever they feel like it, and the physical demands of the job all coming at you at once. You seem never able to get your barrings straight.
Making your way home from the juggernaut onslaught; you are greeted with bills of past due at the mailbox. More month than there is money when it comes to notices. Wolves howl at your door demanding their monetary compensation. You toss the letters into a pile and sigh.
Your knees creak a little more underneath the strain.
You lash out at those around you, those closest to you. Spewing your anger at the frustration onto those you hold closest.
"I shouldn't have become ill tempered with them," you think. So you apologize and ask their forgiveness. They nod their understanding of what your going through and forgive you. Deep inside you wonder why you can't seem to be able to lift this sphere up higher.
I wonder why God allows my world to come crashing in everyday. I'm reminded of Paul asking the very same question. in 2 Corithians 12:7-10
;there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.
For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.
And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.
And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
My King, You know my heart. You know my troubles and cares. You know the worries that attack my very being. You know the sins that creep into my life and won't let go. You know me better than anyone. But I'm not sure I know myself anymore. Doubt slowly takes control. I doubt You. So I go back to the ways of men only to find an emptiness that swallows the soul. Nothing of this world can fill up what You can. As life closes in around me, may I reach for You, the one true bearer of the weight of the world on His shoulders.
Amen.
by
Lance Gargus
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