Venid a mí todos los que estáis trabajados y cargados, y yo os haré descansar. Mateo 11,28
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:29-30
Already I can start to feel the hard uncompromising compromisos of life settle in around my shoulders. The shifting, the adjusting, the complicated weight is pressing in.
It sort of reminds me of Nicole's bicycle on El Camino.
She likes weight. So she said, so we loaded it on: a tent, two sleeping bags, spare tires, patches and glue, a bike pump, Powerbars, the medical kit and toothbrushes, sunscreen, five or six books, flashlights, bathing suits and googles and caps, electronics and accompanying chargers and cords, journals and pens, layers of biking clothes, cute dresses just in case, jackets, a ziplock bag of Grandpa's Bibles, and, hey why not, an inflatable air mattress.
But the thing about Nicole is that she knows her stuff. Really this little Camino was a walk in the park compared to all those years of training in frigid Chicago.
I, on the other hand, do not. No pretending at all that I was capable, knowledgable, skilled, strong, independent...nothing. Just me and I my little water bottle peddling as close as I could to try and catch her draft.
And Jesus sounds a lot like Nicole: Hey mom, don't worry about a thing. I will take care of it all. Just do what I say, and you will be fine, Jes' fi-un, like Grandpa always used to say.
Why in the world would I try and sneak out and strap a few extra concerns and troubles onto my bike? Or pack away a few parcels or rocks?
Learn from Me, who am gentle and lowly in heart, and I will give you rest for your soul.
Selah.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:29-30
Already I can start to feel the hard uncompromising compromisos of life settle in around my shoulders. The shifting, the adjusting, the complicated weight is pressing in.
It sort of reminds me of Nicole's bicycle on El Camino.
She likes weight. So she said, so we loaded it on: a tent, two sleeping bags, spare tires, patches and glue, a bike pump, Powerbars, the medical kit and toothbrushes, sunscreen, five or six books, flashlights, bathing suits and googles and caps, electronics and accompanying chargers and cords, journals and pens, layers of biking clothes, cute dresses just in case, jackets, a ziplock bag of Grandpa's Bibles, and, hey why not, an inflatable air mattress.
But the thing about Nicole is that she knows her stuff. Really this little Camino was a walk in the park compared to all those years of training in frigid Chicago.
I, on the other hand, do not. No pretending at all that I was capable, knowledgable, skilled, strong, independent...nothing. Just me and I my little water bottle peddling as close as I could to try and catch her draft.
And Jesus sounds a lot like Nicole: Hey mom, don't worry about a thing. I will take care of it all. Just do what I say, and you will be fine, Jes' fi-un, like Grandpa always used to say.
Why in the world would I try and sneak out and strap a few extra concerns and troubles onto my bike? Or pack away a few parcels or rocks?
Learn from Me, who am gentle and lowly in heart, and I will give you rest for your soul.
Selah.
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