Loved Enough to be Lifted
Well, buttercup, you go an’ grab yo’self a mason jar of somethin’ real cold and sit a spell on this here porch swing. This here truth we’re about to be ‘a-headin’ toward is ‘a-mite sturdy enough to be ‘a-holdin’ you and a’-mite gentle enough to be ‘a-healin’ you.
Isaiah 53:4- 5 done said, “Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. Yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of our peace was upon him and with his stripes we are healed.” Now friend, if that don’t make your heart go to sittin’ up straighter than a prairie dog on lookout, I do not know what on earth will.
This here life can get real heavy. Some days you feel like you’re ’a-haulin’ a wagonload of worries uphill with a mule that has done decided he is done on his lunch break. Grief goes an’ fogs up your vision like a bathroom mirror after a hot shower. Why, pain makes you feel alone, like the last firefly ‘a-blinkin’ on a dark night. But Isaiah reminds us that Jesus did not just peek at our suffering from a distance. He stepped right on into it. He bore our griefs. He carried our sorrows. He walked through the mud and mess of humanity like a shepherd ’a-carryin’ a lost lamb that keeps ‘a-wigglin’ and ’a-bleatin’.
And just in case we start to thinkin’ our sufferin’ means God is mad at us, Isaiah clears that up quicker than a rooster clears a barnyard at sunrise. Jesus was not wounded for His sins. He had none. He was done wounded for ours. Every bruise, every stripe, every ounce of agony was Him ‘a-sayin’, “I love you this much!” Psalm 40:8 echoes that heart: “I desire to do Your will, my God.Your law is within my heart.” Jesus lived that out all the way to the cross.
“And with His stripes we are done healed.” That ain’t no wishful thinkin’. That is a promise truer than a coonhound that always finds his way back home no matter how far he goes ‘a-sniffin’ through the woods. That kind of healin’ reaches places in us we didn’t even know was bruised. It settles our souls, hushes our hearts, and puts strength back into bones that feel wobblier than a newborn calf ‘a-tryin’ to stand up for the first time. And the best part, friend, is that Jesus Hisself leans in close and says,” Hand it here. Give Me that burden. Just like a worn out ol’ farmhand ‘a-passin’ off a feed sack that has near ‘bout pulled his arms out o’ their sockets, we can hand every doggone bit of our heaviness straight over to Him. And Jesus knows exactly what to do with it, too.
Father, thank You for Jesus who bore my griefs and carried my sorrows. Help me to be ‘a-trustin’ Your love, ‘a-leanin’ into Your healin’, and rest in the truth that I am never alone. In Jesus holy name, Amen.
Now scoot on along, Junebug, and carry this here truth with you like a bluebird ’a-totin’ a twig it knows is gonna make the perfect nest. Jesus didn’t just shoulder your sorrows once upon a time. He is still right there beside you, steady as a faithful ol’ sheepdog that never leaves the gate till you’re done safely at home. Let that there kind of love settle right on into yo’ heart and hold you real firm, the way a tall oak stands its ground even when the wind gets way too feisty!
With joy,
Gwen
