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Our Endless Cares are allowed to Lift us---not to Crush us


We often feel that our hundred of cares, aggravating and endless, are there to bring us down. But are they? How do we make sure that these cares are not getting us down but there to help us soar to greater height? How can we change our burdens into wings that help us to soar on high rather than tie us down to level ground? Yes, how? We have to change our focus and mindset. We have to have the faith that our God will help us when we call on Him. God will transform our burden into a pair of wings through the miracle of trust. When we believe in Him, we will “soar on wings like eagle” (Isaiah 40:31 KJV) and when we “Cast our cares on the LORD (and) He will sustain us” (Psalms 55:22 KJV). Trust on His promises as He never goes back on His words.


The poem below is by Mary Butterfield found in the book, ”Streams in the Desert.” The original book was published in 1925 and the updated edition by Zondervan Corporation in 1997


One day when walking down the street,

On business bent, while thinking hard

About the “hundred cares” which seemed

Like thunderclouds about to break

In torrents, Self-pity said to me:

“You poor, poor thing, you have too much

To do. Your life is far too hard.

This heavy load will crush you soon.”

A swift response of sympathy

Welled up within. The burning sun

Seemed more intense. The dust and noise

Of puffing motors flying past

With rasping blast of blowing horn

Incensed still more the whining nerves,

The fabled last back-breaking straw

To weary, troubled, fretting mind.


“Ah yes, it will break and crush my life;

I cannot bear this constant strain

Of endless, aggravating cares;

They are too great for such as I”

So thus my heart consoled itself

“Enjoying misery,” when to!

A “still small voice” distinctly said,

“T’was sent to lift you---not to crush.”

I saw at once my great mistake.

My place was not beneath the load

But on the top! God meant it not

That I should carry it. He sent

It here to carry me. Full well

He knew my incapacity

Before the plan was made. He saw

A child of His in need of grace

And power to serve; a puny twig

Requiring sun and rain to grow;

An undeveloped chrysalis;

A weak soul lacking faith in God.

He could not help but see all this

And more. And then, with tender thought

He placed it where it had to grow---

Or die. To lie and cringe beneath

One’s load means death, but life and power

Await all those who dare to rise above.

Our burdens are our wings; on them

We soar to higher realms of grace;

Without them we must ever roam

On plains of undeveloped faith,

(For faith grows but by exercise

In circumstance impossible).


O paradox of Heaven. The load

We think will crush was sent to lift us

Up to God! Then, soul of mine,

Climb up! Nothing can e’er be crushed

Save what is underneath the weight.

How may we climb! By what ascent

Will we crest the critical cares

Of life! Within His word is found

The key which opens His secret stairs;

Alone with Christ, secluded there,

We mount our loads, and rest in Him. (March 9)

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