Taking Out The Trash
S K Lewry

 



           I could see all of the trash in my life piling up, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I had tried everything. I tried burying it, but it kept on growing. I tried burning it, but it wouldn’t catch on fire. I tried running, but this trash followed me everywhere. I tried to carry this bag of trash. My body was weakening. I struggled to hold on to it, when in reality, I wanted to let it go.

            A friend of mine I once knew well came to me and said, “Do you want me to take that?” I looked into his eyes and knew he loved me. “Sure,” I said. “If you want to help, you can hold the other end for me. I would appreciate it.”

   He looked at me sadly and said, “No. I can’t carry the other end for you. I can’t just help you carry this trash. You have to give it all to me. You have to let me carry it all for you.”

           “But Lord, I don’t want you to carry it. This is not your trash. It’s mine. You’re too good to carry it. I have to carry it. It’s my burden, not yours.” I continued to drag the heavy bag along the ground. I knew it was too big for me to carry, but I felt like trapped, as if I couldn’t let it go.

“Listen to me,” my friend said. “Do you want this trash? Do you like this trash? Does this trash make you feel loved or comforted? Does it make me seem to be close by or far away? Do you love this trash?”

            That was an easy question. “No, Lord. I hate this trash. It weighs me down, and makes me miserable. It follows me wherever I go. I try to let it go, and I can’t. When this trash is here, I feel helpless and alone. I want to let you carry this trash for me, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

            “Why don’t you want me to carry your trash? I want to carry it for you. I’ve told you that many times. Why won’t you let me help you?”

            “I don’t want you to see what’s in that bag, Lord. That bag is full of pain, sin, and wasted time. It is full of hurt, fear of rejection, pride, and wicked thoughts. You are clean and perfect. If you see the junk in that bag, you won’t want to be my friend anymore. You will take one look at the junk inside and walk away. You will hate me forever. I couldn’t stand knowing that you hated me, Lord. I couldn’t stand it if you rejected me.”

            “I have already seen this junk. I see how it weighs you down. I see the tears that fill your eyes each time you pull a piece out of bag and remember what happened in your past. I watched you each time you sinned, and watched those sins collect. When you asked me into your heart, I promised to forgive you for all of your sins. I’m afraid that you haven’t fully surrendered yourself to me yet. I know what’s in your heart. I know how many things are in that bag because I’ve watched you put them in there. I already know what you’ve been through because I’ve been watching you from the time you were born. When you collect this junk you are not only hurting yourself. You are also hurting me. The times when you have hurt me most is when you refuse to let me carry your burdens. It grieves me when you insist to carry those trash bags on your own. They’re too heavy for you to carry. Trust me. I know that you are weak. I know you are tired of carrying this trash. I can carry it for you, if you let me. I want to carry it for you.”

I saw the love in my Savior’s eyes and knew his words were true. He wanted to carry my junk for me. He wanted to take my sins, hurts, and fears and carry them on his own shoulders. He wanted to do this for me. But I couldn’t understand why.

            “Why, Lord? Why would you want to carry my trash? Why?” I couldn’t understand why he would even think of carrying my trash for me. Did he want to carry it that badly? What inside that terrible bag was worth his time and effort? Why did he want to soil his perfect hands to help clean mine?

            He looked into my eyes and seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. He then said, “My precious child, despite all of this junk you’ve collected, I still love you. I still know your name and still want to spend time with you. But I’m afraid that this junk might come between you and me. It might destroy the relationship we have now. It might cause you to turn your eyes away from mine. I don’t want that to happen. Do you want that to happen?”

            “No, Lord. I want to be close to you. If you want my junk that badly, you can have it. Take it. I don’t want it. I don’t like it. I am repulsed by it. Go ahead and take it.”

            He turned to me and smiled. “Are you sure about this? Are you sure you won’t miss this stuff? Are you sure that you won’t want it back?”

            “I know I don’t want it back. I never want to look at it again. I don’t want it to come between us. I hate the idea of you carrying that heavy bag for me, but if you want to, go ahead and take it. I won’t miss it one bit. You say you know what to do with this junk. I have no idea what I’d do with it. Take it, Lord. Take it.”

            He carefully lifted the bag from my tired shoulders and began to set it upon his own. I could tell my burden was heavy on his shoulders, and I felt so guilty. He must have known how I felt, because he said, “Listen. You don’t have to see this junk anymore. I’m taking it away from you. You don’t have to feel guilty anymore. I have something else for you. I know that you will like it.”

            He handed me a small, white bag. This bag was beautiful, and I was curious to discover what was inside. He nodded and told me to open it. I was surprised to pull out a few tiny seeds. These seeds were so small I could barely even see them, but somehow I could tell they were there. When I opened the bag, my eyes saw things they had never seen before. I saw the pain in the world, and knew why it was there. I saw the fear in peoples’ faces, and wanted to help them. I knew that I couldn’t help them myself. I knew who could. But what were those seeds for? What did God want me to do with them?

            I didn’t get a chance to ask him this question. He spoke before I could express my thoughts. “These seeds are tiny, but they are still very valuable. These seeds must first be planted before they can grow. Take these seeds everywhere you go. Show them to those who have never seen them. Offer them to those who don’t know me. Some will laugh at you, but some will choose to let these seeds grow. Some will realize that these seeds are real and let you give them one. Some might even see how much your seed has grown and ask for one. Sow these seeds wherever you go. If you do this, you will make a difference.”

            I looked at the seeds again. They were so tiny that they were almost invisible. It was difficult to imagine those tiny seeds ever growing into something that was valuable. It was hard to imagine the plant that grew surviving a harsh winter, a powerful storm, or even a gentle rain. God had said that these seeds could grow and that I could plant them. I knew that God would never ask me to do something he knew I couldn’t do.

            I fell on my knees and thanked God for giving me the seeds. I was somewhat afraid that I would disappoint him. I knew I wanted to make him happy with me, but how could I do this? How could I plant these seeds on my own? How would I know when and where to plant these seeds? How would I know when God wanted me to help these seeds grow?

            He was able to read my mind again. “You will not be alone, my child. I will show you the faces of my people. I will tell you when and where to plant these seeds. I know you can’t plant those seeds alone. I plan to help you every step of the way. Do you believe that I can help you plant these seeds? Do you trust me?”

            “Yes, Lord. I believe that you can do all things. I believe you can help me. I trust you, but I don’t really trust myself.”

            He chuckled and said, “When did I say you would have to trust yourself? Did I say anything about you trusting yourself?”

            “No, Lord. You didn’t say anything about that.”

            He turned to me and smiled. “Then go. Don’t ask questions now. Just plant the seeds. I will answer all of your questions when it is time for you to have the answers.”

            “All right, Lord.” I took the seeds and walked away.

            It’s amazing how the little things you can hardly see can make an eternal difference. These seeds were like that. They were nearly invisible to the naked eye. Some people would look at them and never realize that they were there. Others would allow me to plant these seeds, and God himself would reap the benefits. I was merely the planter. I was honored that God wanted someone like me to plant those seeds. As long as I trusted that God could help me love my neighbors, some seeds would be planted. That was God’s promise to me.

 

 

Copyright © 2006 S K Lewry
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"