Won’t You Please Carry Me?

Walking a short distance behind me, I hear small feet slowing down accompanied by whining and complaining. “Momma, my legs are tired. Are we almost done? Can we go back to the playground? Momma, can you carry me?”

My first inclination is to become frustrated. They had their time on the playground, now it’s my time to exercise. But then I remember, these are small children, not mature adults who can understand reason. So, I quietly sigh. I stand in place while they catch up, take them by the hand, and we slowly make our way to the playground.

I’m amazed once we’re back on their turf. Their legs are no longer tired. They no longer wish to be carried or pulled along. Instead, they’re running full speed, laughing and playing. They’re back in their element. Back in the moments of blessed childhood. I shake my head. They could do this all day and never grow tired, but a 30-minute walk down the trail proves to be too much. I don’t get it. Or, maybe I do.

I’m reminded of times when I’m required to do things I would rather not do. Things that aren’t fun. That don’t hold my attention. Tasks I can’t wait to complete so I can move on to those more suited to my liking.

Oh friend, there have been so many times my legs have given out and I’ve wondered, Am I done yet? Can I just sit down and wait this one out?

Then there are the really tough seasons. The ones where I’ve cried out to God in desperation. God, is this almost over? This is too hard. It’s too much. I’m tired and weary and discouraged. I can’t do this anymore.

And my good and gracious God, He hears my prayer. He pauses, turning to face me. Sometimes He waits on me to catch up, to keep walking toward Him in obedience. Other times He walks to where I am. If I need a hand to hold, He extends His hand. If I need someone to simply walk beside me, encouraging me, He becomes that encourager. And if I need someone to pick me up and carry me the rest of the way, He’s the One who carries me.

Friend, whatever it is we need, He meets that need. If only we’ll seek after Him. If only we’ll share our overwhelmed hearts with Him. If only we’ll pour out our insecurities to Him.

In those times when we’d prefer to go our own way. When we’re filled with whining and complaining. When the trail gets hard and we can’t bear another step.

If only we’ll call on Him  —

“God, my legs are so very tired. Lord, won’t you please carry me?”

In the same way I was attentive to my children’s pleas for help, He will be attentive to ours. Somehow, though perhaps not audibly, we will hear His voice –

“My child, I am here.”

And together, we’ll make our way down the trail.

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