Burdened

What has you burdened?  Oh, I don’t just mean you’re a little worried or stressed about something.  I mean someone or something that is weighing you down…that hangs over you like a cloud.  You can’t escape it no matter what else is going on.

When I was an older child and teenage girl, I was burdened for my dad.

Dad went to church with Mom and me when I was fairly young.  But then he suddenly quit going.  Mom said he got upset when a Sunday School class, one that he loved and was thriving and growing, was split up. 

All I know is Dad only came to church for special occasions, such as Christmas or Easter – or if I was in a program or musical. 

The thing was I saw fruit in Dad’s life.  At the time and at the age I was, I didn’t know to call it “fruit” then.  All I knew back then was that I felt confident Dad was a believer and loved God/Jesus because he taught me about things in the Bible at the dinner table for sure, but other times as well.  I knew he was knowledgeable about the scriptures from things he said and lessons he taught me.  And most importantly, I saw him live out things that he taught me.

Even when I was a young girl and started babysitting, he was the one who taught me to tithe.  When I got my first job out of high school, he explained I should tithe first, then save most of my salary and lastly, spend below what I had and what was necessary.  Mom backed him up, of course.  She taught me the specifics and did the follow-through.

During these years, I distinctly remember Dad did taxes on the side.  He was a lead mechanic for Delta Air Lines. That I know of, he never PAID anyone to do their taxes. He did our taxes, both of my aunts and some other family members.  You only had to be around Dad for a short time to know he was good with figures.  I assume word spread at Delta that he did taxes on the side.  I vividly remember a man coming to our house who was inquiring about Dad doing his taxes.  They were talking in our den, a room Dad had added on to our house all by himself.  He laid every brick. But I digress.

I was in the hallway, listening in on the conversation.  The man somewhat implied that Dad should fudge or “cheat” on his taxes so he got more back.  I didn’t know much about taxes then (and still don’t), but I knew what he was suggesting wasn’t right or ethical.  Dad was polite but matter of fact.  In no uncertain terms, he told the man, “If you want someone who’s going to cheat or be dishonest, I’m not your guy.”  They parted friends, and I still don’t remember if Dad did his taxes.  I didn’t care about that.  I just remember being proud of dad for having integrity, being honest and standing up for what was right.

But during this time, I was so burdened for Dad.  I didn’t understand why he wasn’t going to church with us.

My grandmother, Gan (Mom’s mother), lived with us from the time I was 5 years old until college.  A few times, when she was in good health, she went to St. Petersburg, FL and lived/worked there for months at a time.

But when her health failed, and she was with us, my mom cared for her.  Many times, my dad would stay with her so my exhausted mother could go to church or get out for much-needed breaks.

Once when Dad came to church with us, a revival was going on.  I was across the church from where my parents were sitting, but I saw and peeked during a prayer when the evangelist asked if you were unsure about your salvation.  Dad raised his hand. It opened up a conversation about it when we arrived home.  Dad was hard of hearing, and I wasn’t sure he had understood what the evangelist had asked.  I was correct.  He was confused about the question.  But if I had never peeked and asked him about it when we got home, I would’ve always wondered.  Because I did ask, he relayed the story of his salvation.

Dad was a very private man.  He didn’t talk much about himself or share many stories about growing up, his time in the army, etc.  To get him to share about his faith was a HUGE and personal thing.  But it meant the world to me.

Even after him sharing, I still sensed that something wasn’t “right” with Dad and the Lord. It was a gut feeling I had. As I reflect back, it was God that put this burden on my heart.  I prayed for Dad constantly – privately at home and also at church.  Many times, my youth minister, Larry, met me at the altar and prayed with me.  Larry’s heart for me and my dad was so evident.  His care and compassion meant more to me than I can convey in words.  It still does.  Looking back, I don’t know if anyone, outside of family, who has ever cared that much for me or anything that near and dear to my heart.  Larry is just a special man, and I thank God He put me under his leadership and allowed me to be influenced by such a vibrant and genuine man of God.  I still keep in touch with him and his precious wife, Anna.  Both were major influences in my life – and especially my Christian walk.

I wanted my dad to have joy in the Lord; I longed for he and mom to be One in church and in their faith. When other peers of mine sat with their friends during church, I sat with my mother.  Oh, not because she made me.  Because I felt for her.  I couldn’t stand the thought of her sitting on the pew alone…without my father.  So it didn’t matter to me that other teens made fun of me.  It was the whispers, jeers and ridiculing remarks by teens in my youth group that hurt me.  But Mom’s feelings were far more important to me than getting made fun of.

My junior year of college, I spent a summer in Yuma, AZ as a Baptist Student Union missionary.  Since Dad worked for Delta, he and Mom were able to fly out on a pass.  I was so thrilled to see them!!  They met the couple we lived with for those three months; they got to know my partner for the summer, “Say” (short for Sarah); and they got to see firsthand some of the work we were doing.  That Sunday morning, Dad and Mom came to the mission church where we had been ministering.  I lead the people in singing.  And “Say” and I were scheduled to sing a duet that Sunday during the morning worship service.  Now, if you know me, you know I love to sing, but God didn’t give me a solo voice.  But it was a mission church…so you do what is asked of you. 

Needless to say, we had practiced, but we were still nervous – even with a small crowd.  As Say and I stood to sing, a peace came over both of us.  We sang the hymn, “Without Him”. Here are the words if you’re not familiar: “Without Him I could do nothing.  Without Him I’d surely fail.  Without Him I would be drifting, like a ship without a sail.  Jesus, oh, Jesus, do you know Him today?  Do not turn Him away?  Oh, Jesus.  Oh, Jesus.  Without Him how lost I would be.”  During those powerful words and our pitiful attempt to sing and harmonize, God spoke to me as if He was standing right there next to me.  “Your dad is coming back to me.  He’s coming home.” I heard this message from the Lord as we were singing!  Was it tough to keep singing and not cry tears of joy?  You bet!!  But I could look at my dad and see the joy in his face and tears in his eyes.  Mom, of course, was crying.  That was a given.  But I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face and especially what God said to me in a clear voice.

I hugged them bye and told them I would see them in a couple more months.  The very next Sunday, Dad went to church with Mom.  I don’t know if he ever explained to her or opened up.  But somehow she knew.  Mom and I had that secret language.  We could read one another across a crowded room. We could convey so much with our eyes and looks.  She knew I was emotional; she saw something in me that day.  And maybe, just maybe, God spoke to her as well. All I know, God had come through in a major way!  HE IS TRULY SO FAITHFUL!!!!

14 years.  That’s how long I prayed for Dad.  Mom did as well. 

When I think or hear of God’s faithfulness, I can’t help but think of how he answered the prayers of a young naïve girl who had faith in God.  Many, many times I felt so inadequate in my prayers. I didn’t know how to pray.  I didn’t know what else to say.  I didn’t know if I was praying “correctly”.  Looking back, I don’t think that mattered.  God knew my heart and that I longed for Dad to be close and have intimacy with Him again. 

Dad and I grew closer because of all of that history.  And one year for his birthday, when he was up in age, we were at a restaurant with several dear friends from church celebrating his birthday.  He leaned around the man sitting between us, and he reached for my hand.  He told me in only a way a dad can that he wouldn’t be where he was if it wasn’t for me and my prayers.  That one touch of his big hand and sentence from my dad meant more to me than a million dollars.  My heart was full to overflowing.

He had come home.  The fruit I saw in my dad’s life as a little girl grew.  My dad was a private man, but I knew he talked to the Lord and prayed.  I knew he served and was a servant.  I knew he loved the Lord, but something had caused him to drift.  Whatever that was, it no longer existed.  God had heard the prayers of a young girl.  God had pursued my precious dad and didn’t give up.  God came through for me!! 

Why do I relay that very personal story?

I can’t say I really wanted to.  Norman, my husband, always tells me that I share too many personal things with anyone who will listen (of course I’m exaggerating somewhat). He is very private.  But there are certain things that are private to me…and I don’t really want everyone knowing.

But in this case, God had me relay this deeply personal account.  Why?

Because someone out there who reads my blog needs encouragement.  You are burdened and praying about a situation that seems hopeless.

And it is hopeless without God.  Only HE can intervene.

I Peter 5:7 reminds us to “Cast our cares upon the Lord because He cares for you.”   I think that’s the ultimate point.  To give Him our burdens and watch Him work.  To be dependent on HIM vs. ourselves.  And to know He does care.

But right now, maybe you’re worn out.  You are so tired and weary of bringing the same person or circumstance before the Lord.  You might not know what else to pray.

You might have already given up and quit praying.  Or perhaps you just wonder if God is listening or acting.  Maybe you’ve blamed God for not moving and answering in YOUR time table.

I don’t know where you are.  But I do know there have been times in my own life when I’ve been tempted to give up.

In fact, friend, I’ll confide in you even further.  I’m praying about a situation right now that seems like it’s going to go on forever. 

I pray in the mornings when I have a quiet time with the Lord; my hubby and I pray every evening at a certain time; I pray throughout the day; I pray sometimes when I’m with friends, seemingly having a good time.  You see, a burden, is not just a little worry or concern.  It’s something that weighs you down…that can steal your joy, if you let it.

Today I was discouraged as I found out some news about someone I’ve been burdened for that let me know the circumstances haven’t changed.  Not immediately, but at some point, I asked God, “Do they matter?  Are you hearing my prayers?  Are they making a difference?”

In a soft and almost indistinguishable whisper I heard, “Trust me, Laura.  Keep praying.” 

And so, why do I write?  To remind You…to remind Me…that He does hear and listen.  Our prayers do make a difference.  But His time table is not the same as yours and mine.  He sees the front, back, side and every angle of the tapestry called LIFE.  He has a purpose and reason for His timing.  I don’t always understand it, but I don’t have to.

That’s where FAITH comes in.

Forsaking All I Trust Him.

I learned that acronym when I was single and in my 20s.  It stuck with me.

Forsaking my doubts, forsaking my fears, forsaking my worries and “what if’s”, I will not give in to Satan’s attempts to question His sovereignty.

I will keep clinging to the One who knows me best….and knows the situation and circumstances best.

This morning Norman (my hubby) and I drove separately to church.  As I started my car in our garage, the lights instantly came on and then the windshield wipers (it had been raining the day before).  I said out loud, “Lord, I want my prayers answered like the lights/wipers…instantly…immediately.  Forgive me, I know that’s not how you typically work.  Help me be patient and trust you.  Help me trust your timing.”

How about you?

What do you do with your burdens? 

Are you expecting God to answer immediately?  Are you impatient when He doesn’t?

Do you bottle them up and let them get twisted inside of you until they make a knot in your stomach?  Do you allow your burdens to overtake you and cause anxiety and depression?  I know many people like that, even believers in Jesus.  I’m not simplifying depression and anxiety; I am simply saying that some people become anxious and experience real depression because of their burdens.  I know…I’ve been there.  But I know the enemy just jumps up and down when this scenario happens.  I KNOW God wants to use the burdens in my life to draw me closer to Him. 

I certainly can reflect on the burden I carried for my precious daddy for so long.  One of the biggest byproducts that came from that was learning to depend on and look to the Lord.

Giving our burdens to the Lord is truly biblical.  But the Bible also offers other advice on the subject.

In Galatians 6:2 we are told to “Bear one another’s burdens and fulfill the law of Christ.”  Right now, I have 6 precious ladies that I’ve confided in regarding a very personal matter.  I don’t air these things near and dear to my heart to just anyone.  I pray and ask the Lord to show me who I can trust, and also who I can count on to understand and pray.  Not all of these friends are my age.  One, in particular, is older and offers me much wisdom, as well as her prayers.

I’m thankful for each one.  In every case, each lady brings something different to the table.  I’m grateful God put every sister in my life.  And I’m deeply thankful that each one helps carry my burden right now.  It’s lighter because of them.

Most importantly, my husband is one I can confess my worries and cares to.  He’s probably my most important burden bearer.

Perhaps you’re thinking, “Laura, I don’t have one person I feel I can trust or confide in…that truly cares.”  If that’s you, then pray.  Cry out to God and ask Him to put a confidant in your life that will help be a burden bearer for you.  Years ago, Larry was the only burden bearer in my life.  As close as I was to my mother, I couldn’t confess and confide everything to her.  I worried too much about how it would affect her.  I hope that makes sense.

I’m praying for you, friend.  Praying that God provides dear ones in your life to help carry burdens that weigh you down.  And that these confidants are also prayer warriors who will spend time on their knees petitioning the Heavenly Father on your behalf.

In addition, I pray you will be available and ready to be a confidant and burden bearer to others around you.  Lately, God has given me numerous opportunities to minister to others in this capacity.  I believe serving in this way is part of His plan as well.  You see hearing others needs and difficulties helps me know and realize that I’m not the Lone Ranger and life is not just about me.  I count it a privilege to bring each of their needs and burdens before the Lord. 

Most of all, I pray that you will release your burden to the One True God, and “know that He is able to do exceedingly more than you can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20).

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this topic that’s really not discussed much. 

Thanks for reading and listening.