The other day, while we were on our retreat, we were asked to pick up a piece of firewood. We were then told to write down on the wood burdens and other things in our lives that we have been carrying. Then, they prayed over us, and told us to hike…in the woods…no instruction other than, follow the trail and keep hiking.
At first, carrying my log didn’t seem that burdensome. I can remember thinking to myself, “This isn’t that bad…I can do this.” During this experience we were told to be silent before the Lord and listen for him to speak. I hiked for a long time in silence with no one speaking to me. As I hiked, and hiked, and hiked, the weight of my log started to get heavier and heavier. And then, I started thinking about my log. It was rather large, round, and it was covered in a thick, rough bark. The center was hollow, but was filled with sooty black dirt. As I was walking, I had to start changing the position of my log, because it was getting heavy…and I noticed the rough bark against my skin…it was uncomfortable, and the dirt stained my white tshirt. Then, I began asking the Lord…”Lord…are you really proud of me? How can I know? What was it like for you that day…when you were carrying the cross upon your shoulders? Was it heavy like this log is becoming?”
With each step the log got heavier and harder to carry, until it really became a struggle. Then the Lord said, “I know what you are feeling. How do you know that I am proud of you? Well…I carried a cross on my shoulders, with wood like you are carrying, only, I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I died for you, Bev, that is how you know Im proud of you. I love you and I gave my life for you….that is how you know.”
At the end of my hike, I realized that that log I was carrying was so typical of my heart and life! For so long my heart has been covered in a “thick rough bark” making my heart hard. The inside of my heart has so much “dirt” and I was stained with it. And it is only through the blood of Jesus Christ that those things can be taken away.
At the end of the hike (about 5 miles), I dropped my log at the cross, and it was such a release to leave my burdens there. I didn’t want to carry them any more. They are now HIS.
