by Mark Weinrich
I was bent with burdens, sapped of strength. The pressure so great, I could barely look up from my feet. “Come, take My yoke…” Why would anyone care and offer to trade for this tool of my misery? When He lifted that torturous weight, I couldn’t believe the relief like a house had been broken off my shoulders. Oh, the unfathomable joy I could see the sky and feel the cool of the evening breeze. And the device He gently settled on my shoulders was too light to be called a yoke for it rested easily. Compared to how I’d borne my load, His yoke is an instrument of mercy. For once, my heart and mind were quiet, refreshed as if I’d had weeks of rest. Tears filled my eyes, I could look up and now through His grace I could see ahead.
Mark Weinrich lives a creative life as a writer, photographer, musician, and artist—all wrapped together in an outdoorsman. He is a retired pastor and nine-year cancer survivor. His writing and photography have appeared in over 130 news stand, inspirational, and literary publications. He has sold eight children’s books and currently has two fantasy novels on Kindle.