My Burden Carrier

Memoirs #3

The focal point of my yard was not the house, no sir. It was the big tree just to the left of the front door. Out of its side ran a low, long limb, a strong arm just waiting to be used, daring me to take it on. “Look at me,” it said, “strong and able, so do what you will with me.” I accepted the challenge by using it to put up a swing made of old rope with a piece of scrap wood for a seat.“There, “ I said, “Can you handle that?” It replied “Yes, and more,” for which I was grateful because I had more to give. Over the years, not only did that swing bear my weight, it also bore the weight of the things I was carrying inside me. Secrets. Dark secrets. Heavy secrets. 

It was a grand tree and a loyal friend, one that I would leave behind when the time was right. I saw the tree many years later, after making my great escape, and I was heart broken to see how ravaged and tired it looked. Did my secrets do that? Did my burdens zap the life right out of my friend? I imagined myself tying a yellow ribbon around its base and telling it to die and find peace, that it isn’t needed any more, that I am okay. Let go. I did. All is well now.

Then I think, why would I want a faithful friend to die? Why not encourage it to use its roots to go deep in search of living water that it could use to create the strength and vitality of new life? It’s there, waiting to be tapped into, waiting to rush up its trunk and into it branches, giving it the power to stretch and reach into the sky as far as it dares - into the hope and promise of a new day.

It worked for me - Living Water. Shouldn't I offer the same hope to my withering, dried up friend? Shouldn't I introduce it to my new burden carrier? One that never grows weary or tired. One that can carry the burdens of the whole world with strength to spare.