A Heavy Load

I tread slippery bumps up the muddy hill.
Dogding piles of washed up garbage
Discarded bags
A broken shoe.
The road is messy, muddy and slick.
It's hard work.
I feel ready to fall at any moment.
But I enjoy the crisp morning air and bright sunshine.

A woman ahead of me struggles under a heavy load.
Many gallons of water for her family weigh her down.
She bears them on her back.
And cloth wrapped around her forehead to hold it.
She grunts, bent over under the heavy load.
I pass her easily, without that burden.

Time freezes for an instant.
The gospel illustrated before my eyes.

We walk a broken road.
Under a heavy load.
He takes the burden upon his own back.
He grunts and groans under the strain.
The Mender of brokenness carries our load.
While we walk freely.
Our path is not easy.
Still full of garbage, bumps and slick with mud.
But the burden is light.
We are free.
We can walk easily.

I tread the slippery bumps up a muddy hill.
I am free.