Life is hard, and I can see the weight you carry.
It’s as visible as if you had a boulder tied upon your back. I see it in your eyes, the physical and emotional exhaustion eclipsing the light they once held. I see it in the way you walk, shoulders drooping under the weight of the invisible burden. I hear it in the tone of your voice, you speak with a shortness that contrasts your natural disposition. I feel it in the absence of your smile, replaced by an unconvincing, strained attempt.
You tell me it’s OK. You’re OK. It will all be OK.
But it’s not. You’re not. And I’m not sure it will be.
I want so desperately to take it from your back. To cut the cords that hold it there and watch it tumble behind you into the dust. Or, if freedom isn’t possible, I want to carry it for you.
But I can’t.
It’s a weight I could never bear. A burden unique to you. I couldn’t take it from you even if I tried.
It’s yours alone to carry. And it breaks my heart to watch.
But I will continue to watch because turning away isn’t an option. We’ve come too far together for you to walk alone.
I’ll walk beside you as you trudge along. I’ll remind you that you are loved. I’ll pray for you each time you cross my mind. I’ll show up with a cold soda or a hot coffee. I’ll send a text so you know you haven’t been forgotten. I’ll offer my measly help even when I know it does little. I’ll try to make you smile every chance I get. I’ll give you my heart every single day though I know it’s not enough.
And when defeat threatens my strength, I’ll hand you over to the One who gives rest to the weary.
He loves you in ways I cannot. He holds you when my arms are tired. He reaches inside your soul where I cannot.
And you will continue to carry it, stronger with every painful step. You will not be crushed under its weight. Together we will walk—you, me, and our God.
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page