(Just a precursor note to all other stay-at-home parents who are somehow able to manage the education, the blogging time, and the face time with your family - you are amazing! Because I am still learning how to juggle, this is a blog I wrote several weeks ago but am just now posting.)
Several weeks ago I was incredibly blessed to share a couple of days at Disney World with 3 of my favorite ladies: my mother and 2 daughters. My mother was incredible as usual, ready for the new adventure. My oldest daughter will be 3 at the end of the month and was so excited to see Cinderella that she could barely sleep each night. My youngest, well she was awake some of the time we were there (ha!).
Rather than driving and parking on site, we decided to take advantage of the transport system provided onsite. As I read the sign on the side of the bus, I knew this was going to be interesting: "Dept. of Transportation regulations require all carriers to be closed and stowed." So what, right? Other than a necessarily printed safety regulation, what does that mean? Well, to the parent, that means I need to get both kids out of their strollers and somehow either unload or miraculously condense this now fully-loaded stroller to a closed position. Awesome. I mean, I had diapers, snacks, sunscreen, and everything I thought we might need. So my mom and I had to figure out who was going to hold the kids and who was going to hold the stuff.
At first we had this marvelous idea: each one take a child and their stroller. So I took my youngest baby, the largest stroller, and all our baggage to "lead the way." While I could not get the stroller fully closed I thought maybe I could hold it closed and handle it anyway. After all, this was a short trip.
Well, I was wrong. With my one "free" arm I tried to lift this stroller, that once seemed to so beautifully hold all my well-organized "stuff" for the day, onto the bus. I had so much extra baggage on this contraption, I could not even lift it with one arm. That six inch step might as well have been six feet. What a sight I must have been! Feeling pitiful and embarrassed for holding up this line of people who all seem to have their stuff together, I looked at the driver, hoping he would lend his expertise. As I looked into his eyes with hope, imagining I certainly could have been the only parent who was trying to manage it all for the first time, my eyes were met with a glare of frustration that I was holding things up. I asked him if could just help me manage to lift it up onto the bus. As he looked beyond me to see the line behind, he begrudgingly helped me lift it those 6 inches. At that moment I found myself wishing those 6 inches were 600 feet, under which maybe I could hide.
Feeling increasingly awkward and embarrassed, I looked at this bus full of people avoiding eye contact with me. I could imagine what was going through some of their minds: pity, tiredness, excitement for their day, distractions with their own life situations, and some probably never even noticed me.
So there I stood unable to hold onto anything because I was trying so hard to hold onto everything. All the seats were full, one of my arms was fully with my baby and the other with my stroller (now conveniently becoming heavier baggage to weigh me down). At this point I made a mental note: "Mommy Muscles" do not grow themselves, I need to go back to the gym!
Behind me is my mother with a lighter stroller and my ever-so-active two-year old. When no one budged from "their spot," I finally asked a woman if she could hold one of her children in her lap so my mother could sit down. She did, frustrated it seemed, but she did.
Then from out of behind people he came...like an angel for the day. He said, "Please, take my seat." I smiled kindly but realized my baby, my baggage, my stroller...we could not all fit. Then he did the unthinkable: he stood and offered more than just kind help. He took my baggage and stroller in his own hand and uttered these words, "Sit with your baby, rest. I will hold this for you."
And that's when I realized, with my heart overwhelmed, that must be what Jesus looks like...on a Disney bus.
Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light. (Matthew 11:28-30 NLT)
I could just hear Jesus: My yoke is easy and My burden is light. Lay all your baggage down. Rest. Let me carry it for a while. In fact, you might see that trading your everything for My anything is so much better than you ever thought possible.
Then I was challenged: Who have people seen through me on my "bus" of life? What role have I played on the journey? Could it be time for me, for we who are disciples of Jesus of Christ, Christ-followers, to get off our seats on the bus and go pick up someone's strollers and baggage to give them a break. How many people come strolling into my life, my journey, my faith, my Church who are weighed down with their own "baggage"? How many times are we annoyed by their disruption of our routine or frustrated by their mess? How many agitated glares have we given, or even worse, how many times have we just ignored them completely: these annoying, messy, noisy, smelly, nothing-together, baggage-carrying, anxiety-ridden people for whom Jesus Christ died on a cross and gave His life. These beautiful people who are desperately looking for a break and a rest, and whom God has somehow seem fit to place in my life, in our lives, at this time and this place.
Lord, forgive me. Forgive me for getting too comfortable on the bus of life, whether it is in my own Church or somewhere else in life. Please don't let me forget what it's like to alone in the crowd. Please forgive me for the moments I have been the bus driver who is supposed to be there to help and lead but really is so stuck on my job I forgot the reason I do any of this. Lord, forgive me for the moments I have been so absorbed with my own situation that as a leader on the bus I have looked past the person standing right in front of me because they were blocking me from "all those other people" who were "waiting to get in." Forgive me for the moments I have been too afraid to stand up and give up my seat because it might make my journey less comfortable. Forgive me for the times I never helped because it simply was not convenient. Forgive me for the moments I look down or away for fear of getting involved when I am needed. Forgive me for the moments that I am like the mother who is too focused on the comfort of my family that I am not ready to let anyone else in because of the possible inconvenience. Forgive me for not stepping out and up.
Help make me like the man who not only gave up his seat but took on the load. Help me be like this servant not because I want to make someone's day or do something nice. Help me share this love because my Savior did this for me first. He gave up His seat on a throne to take my place on a cross. Mockers glaring, he took all my baggage on Himself so I did not ever have to take it back. Help me love because You first loved me. Thank You, Jesus. Amen.
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