I grew up in an age where a song with a tag line of “he ain't heavy, he's my brother” frequently played in the back of my mind. I do not believe I ever understood the weight and struggle carried in and among those words. As I get older I am beginning to appreciate just what these words can mean.
My daughters are beginning to realize the independence and authority. Boys are part of the focus, expressing their own thoughts is critical, doing it by and for themselves central. On bright sunny days this process is very exciting and rewarding. You can see the new person emerging and blossoming into something beautiful and unique. On rainy days, one struggles with the picture and relationship. We do we as parents fit? What should we be doing differently, if anything? How can we deal with a new soul at risk?
A friend has studied God intensely for years. He is convicted and knows God inside and out, at least factually; yet he longs for a sense of emotional relationship. On good days his activities reflect his priorities, especially with God. On other days God drifts to a quiet corner, waiting to be touched and loved. What can I do as a friend? Do I see his soul at risk?
Work colleagues are beginning to realize their latent potential. They are showing themselves capable of competing in the corporate game, and it is becoming more apparent to everyone. They are growing, but where does God fit in their lives? What is my responsibility as a friend?
There are others. A friend on a journey to see God. Another seeking to knows God's unconditional acceptance and love. And still another who seeks to know God's voice. All children of God's seeking to know the Father.
“You need to know that I carry with me at all times a huge sorrow. It's an enormous pain deep within me, and I'm never free of it.” (Romans 9.1) You are special, to God and to me. You're not heavy, you're my brother.