come lay 'em down

I began this journey walking, but I know now is the time to run.  With every step, every heartbeat, I'm growing closer to my destination.  I find myself in a full-on sprint, though my heart is weary and my body is aching.  But I continue on, knowing what lies ahead is well-worth the temporary discomfort.  The dust beneath my bare feet flies up, covering my ankles with soil.  My hair whips behind me, moving to the unwritten rhythm of the wind.  Trees lining the path fly by in a blurry haze, distorted objects of green.  But none of that matters because I can hear it.  The sound of rushing water moving swiftly over smooth stones that rest below its surface. A symphony so strong and bold, yet gentle and lulling simultaneously.  It's the sound of restoration, of new life and cleaned slates. That's when I see it.  The river in all its glory, glowing in the sun's light, reflecting all that lies in the water found here.  I fall to my knees, feeling my misery leave almost instantly.  Cupping my hands, I fling the cool liquid upward, soaking my face and drenching my shirt.  Though unacknowledged at first, there are people all along the river bank, submerging themselves in the renewing water. Every one of them is different, not a single one like another.  To my left, there's a man.  He's sporting an expensive business suit, but even so, he's down on his knees, like me.  His short-cropped brown hair is dripping, and his face is covered with water droplets. That's when I realize he's crying.  Despite the silence of his tears, I can hear the hurt that each one releases.  Every failure, every heartache is mirrored in his eyes.  "Father," he cries toward heaven. "Why did you take her from me?  Why..."  I long to comfort him, but I can't bring myself to interrupt the conversation that's gone unspoken for so long.  So instead I turn to my right to find a girl of six or seven, dipping her feet in the river, thanking Jesus for her new pup named Sammy.  Her skin is the color of coffee doused heavily with creamer, and her hair is braided tightly in perfect little rows.  "Jesus," she whispers, looking towards the sky.  "Thanks for answering my prayer.  Sammy's my best friend and I love him so much.  I promise to feed him every day and play with him and even let him sleep in my bed sometimes."  I smile, her words warming my heavy heart.  She makes it seem so easy, talking to Jesus as though He's her best friend.  So I begin to pray.  "Jesus," I start, unsure of what to say.  "I... I'm not as strong as people think.  I try and I try but I just keep messing everything up and letting everybody down.  I can't do this by myself anymore."  As soon as those words leave my lips, my soul heaves a sigh of relief.  I then glance to my left to see the young man is no longer sobbing, stumbling over his words held in.  The little girl is still lost in worship, radiance beaming from her small face.  Standing up, my breath is taken away. Thousands of people, rich and poor, young and old, black and white, are now lifting their eyes to the heavens.  There is no pain, no sorrow, no tears.  Just a desperate desire for Jesus.  As I turn to leave, I hear someone whisper, "It's more than the river."  "I know," I reply.  "It's much more."

Come down to the river
Come and let yourself in
Make good on a promise
To never hurt again
If you're lost and lonely
You're broken down
Bring all of your troubles
Come lay 'em down
--Needtobreathe, Come Lay 'Em Down

Come unto me all ye who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

All my love, Jesus [matt 28:11]