The Key

The weight of the past dragged behind her. It was like dragging around a suitcase that was stuffed so full it could barely shut. It was heavy. It was bulky. It was impossible to pick up so it had to be drug behind her. It was connected to her by chains that resembeld handcuffs. There was no key to be found. It was attached to her with no hope of being released. Some days she walked through day with the familiarity of it dragging behind her, but forgetting what was even in the suitcase. It was just so heavy. Some days the heaviness was evident from the moment her eyes opened in the morning. Still lying in bed, too tired from the weight to swing her legs to the carpeted floor.

When would the key be found to release this suitcase from her body? When would the heaviness leave her so she could move with ease and grace? When would she get through her day with the ability to focus on others instead of the weight of the stuff dragging along with her? She was so tired. Her body hurt. Her heart was deflated. Her strength was gone. Her vision was blurred. Her hearing was impaired. The path in front of her seemed overgrown with weeds.

The task of moving forward seemed impossible. The task of making it through the day seemed like too much work.

Where was the key that would unlock the heavy burdens? Where was it hiding? She had looked every where. Her friends didn't have it. Her family didn't have it. Her kids didn'thave it. The world that promised they had it, was lying, the world didn't really have it. The books at the bookstore that said they had it, really didn't. The person she trusted with her heart, said he had it, but he never really did. Who was holding on to the key? Why couldn't she find it and just unlock the chains?

One day the Word of God was given to her. It was full of promises. The words were amazing. The stories were fasinating. The emotion was overwhelming. She read that book over and over. She heard others speak about it. She picked up book after book that expanded on it. She sought counsel to help her understand it. But that suitcase was still there, dragging behind her.

Some days it felt lighter as though a piece of it's contents was taken out.

She asked over and over to the people she trusted..."When will this be over? When I feel free? When can I stop dragging around this heaviness? I am so tired. I am so tired. I want it to be over."

As she read the Word of God that had been given to her, it began to seep in to her heart. Many days she read it and she was so happy for the other people that it was meant for. She knew they were so loved and blessed. She knew that they had hope and mercy and forgiveness and grace. She prayed for them. She began to speak truth to them.

Years were going by. Days were piling on top of one another. The weight of the "suitcase" was beginning to steal her life. Not just her physical life, but her emotional and spiritual life. She realized she was adding to it little by little as each day went by. As soon as one thing was gone, she grasped on to just a piece of its fabric because it was all she knew. She couldn't let the whole thing go or she would feel naked and alone and she would not know who she was anymore.

She wondered why she would want to hold on to the things that hurt her so much. The things that made her sick. The things that made her cry and sad and feel paralyzed.

As the Word was planted in her heart she wondered, what if each time she took something out of the suitcase she could give it to Jesus. What if she not only gave it to him, but she told him she trusted him to throw it over his shoulder and never to give it back. What if she really believed that he would take it. What if she really believed that when she held on to it so tightly that she was being selfish and self absorbed. What if she really grasped the idea that Jesus walked to a cross knowing he was going to die a painful death, just to save her. What if she realized that as he was walking to that cross, he was NOT thinking about what she wore yesterday or what her physical appearance looked like, but he was picturing what her heart looked like.

What if she knew He was praying that she would realize that he loved her so much, that he was going to die for her. He was hoping and praying and begging her to realize that He was the way...the truth...the life. He longed for her to know that He was the truth. He was the only truth. He never wanted her to have all of those burdens or all of that weight that she drug behind her. He was grieving with each step he took up to that cross knowing she was going to go so long with our realizing this. He thought about her with each step he took. And even though he grieved over the length of time she would chain that heavy suitcase to her, he rejoiced in the day she would hear the word and realize that it was written for her, that the moment his flesh died, she was set free. He rejoiced in the day she realized that the lies spoken to her were lies and that he was "truth". He rejoiced in the day when all she knew she had to do was love him and know he loved her back.

One day she stopped looking down and started looking forward. One day she knew that she couldn't drag around that weight anymore. One day she knew that when Jesus was walking to that cross it was her he was thinking about too. It wasn't just her friend or the person sitting next to her. And when she began to realize that and really understand it, she looked at Jesus from a different view and there she saw it. His hand was extended. It always had been but she couldn't see it. All she could see was the suitcase. She wasn't looking forward, she was looking behind her. It was there all along. Jesus knew she would see it some day and he held his hand out the whole time, until she was able to get him in to focus.

And it wasn't even a key he was holding in his hand. But what she saw was a scar...a wound that had healed. She had searched her whole life for a key. A certain size or shape or perfect fit to unlock the chains. Nothing ever fit. She was searching for the wrong thing. Jesus had it all along. His scars. His love. His forgiveness. His patience. Him. It was Him. It was the walk to the cross. It was the sacrifice He made. It was the death of his flesh and the resurrection from the grave. His scars were the key.

Her hand extended and touched the scar...she said she could see it. She said nothing else mattered. There was no excuse anymore to not see the scars, the love, the sacrifice. She had been reading about it, talking about it, sharing it with others, but she never really grasped the concept of the scars for herself. As soon as she understood that there was no other choice than to believe it for her, she felt the chains begin to break. At first she wanted to run back and grab on to that suitcase for dear life. Everything she based her exsitence on for more than 40 years was in that suitcase and without it what would she clothe herself in?

But Jesus said look at my scars. He said I love you and thought of you with each step to that cross. He said if you will take my hand and touch my scars you will now be "clothed in strength". You will now be free of the chains and I will tell you which way to go when you "stand at the crossroads". That suitcase is no longer needed. That weight is no longer there. Let it go and take my scarred hand and know I did it for you.

"For the Lord will go ahead of you. Yes the God of Israel will protect you from behind." (Isaiah 52:12). He is ahead of you...he is behind you...protecting you...guiding you...loving you...forgiving you...

The key is the scars...the key is the love...the key is the forgiveness.

Look up...

Take the extended hand....

He thought of you...He thought of me...as he walked to that cross and was nailed to the wood...and took his last earthly breath....and as he rose from that grave and took his seat next to our Father...He thought of you...He thought of me...and the suitcase was gone...and weight had been lifted and when she realized it no longer had to be there she fell to her knees and rejoiced.

Jesus loves you.

Teresa