Assigned to Bear Burdens

And Solomon assigned 70,000 men to bear burdens… 2 Chronicles 2:2

There are projects in God’s kingdom that cannot be completed without burden bearers. 

Those stones hewn from the mountain would not carry themselves, assemble themselves into towering walls forming Solomon’s glorious temple. They needed strong arms to bear them to their purpose.

To think burden-bearing may be one’s assignment! I daresay not many would choose it voluntarily.

God’s assigned burden bearer must be careful how she carries her load.

I have a beautiful bowl handcrafted from the wood of an orange tree native to Africa. A rich russet color, it is inlaid with floral patterns of lighter wood.

Disrupting the intricate design is a large, ugly crack, spanning from one rim to the base of the bowl.

The crack tells the story of a careless burden bearer. In the city where we lived at the time, burden bearers pulled homemade carts behind them, running through the uneven stone streets to transport loads from one place to another. I often needed their help.

One day after a trip to the nearby mountains, we returned with too many items to carry alone in our arms. The journey was long from our parking area on the edge of the city wall to our house nestled in the ancient maze of winding streets. I placed the bowl on the cart last, carefully strapping it in place.

The cart-puller made it all the way to our door before he lost control and spilled the contents to the marble floor. The bowl was first to hit, and with a sharp crack, it struck the floor and fractured.

I stood frozen a moment, suspended between disappointment that my beautiful new bowl was cracked and embarrassment that I cared so much. The cart puller looked at me with weary eyes that said I have much heavier burdens to worry about than your broken bowl. Without acknowledgment or apology, he held out his hand for payment. He was gone before I could even get mad.

On many days, I am not so different from the weary burden bearer who spends his life running and pulling heavy loads, only to arrive at the destination and drop it all on the floor.

Demanding my compensation from those around me, I am in too much of a hurry to address any damage my careless carrying may have caused. I have other things on my mind.

The burdens I tote around are often much more fragile than a wooden bowl.

My metaphorical cart is laid heavy with responsibility, relationships, and worries. People break more easily than bowls, and I am afraid I have done my fair share of fracturing hearts and feelings in the rush to put my cart away and be done. I groan under the weight, eager to be rid of it.

What if I saw my burden differently? What if I saw my burden as an assignment from the King for the building of His temple?

The way we see our burdens can make all the difference in how we carry them. #stress #faith #perseverance Share on X

Those relationships, those responsibilities, might weigh differently against my weary back if I recognized from whom they came. I might slow down. With slowing down comes careful carrying. Clear seeing. Gentle serving.

What if I only carried the burdens assigned by the King?

Knowing He assigned them would give them new purpose and value. I would say no to other burdens, saving my best effort for the King. I would handle burdens like treasures if I stopped to realize they mattered to Him, if I understood I had been chosen to bear them because something magnificent was being built that would give people reason to worship.

And I imagine the King provides all that is needed for His assigned burden bearers to carry the loads He gives.

The cracked wooden bowl now sits in my American kitchen holding my family’s bananas and oranges. In the buttery evening sunlight, the edges reflect golden. It’s as if the burden found a new purpose and value, one appointed by the king. It sits elegant and lovely in the light, overflowing with beautiful fruit.

Lord, change my perspective about my burdens. Help me carefully carry only what you have assigned, and build Your kingdom through me. Amen.

@audreycfrank