The full moon pierced early morning cloud cover, slightly illuminating a long black rope across the blacktop. My task was to pull the rope while another gladiator held the other end. Then we traded positions and the battle continued. The first round was fairly even, both pulling our share, but by the fifth challenge, I was convinced he’d picked up an anchor along the way. Then he dragged me across the parking lot like a ragdoll.
Many times, the Lord allows words to explain my feelings, but today was not one of those days, until I got pulled through the fog.
Later, stepping through an office door, I faced a barrage of phone calls and emails like I usually do, but this week, I was pulled in every direction except the one I needed to go in. Like a marionette, one person controlled my left hand, one my right, and still another making my feet dance like a fool in this never ending puppet show.
Yet it took being dragged around to stop and really see who was pulling the strings. Every cry, concern or supposed “emergency” tugged until it had stretched my reach beyond its capacity.
With my arms spread wide, struggling to breathe, a heavenly voice whispered:
I’ve been there too.
I took it on so you wouldn’t have to.
Trust me, I can carry the weight.
You just have to let go.
Tears ran down my face as the strings loosened their grip. Jesus took my hands and led me forward, dragging all the “puppet masters” behind.
They still pull and prod, command and complain, but their strength is nothing compared to the Hands that hold me.
In this broken world, we’ll always be dragged and distracted… stretched to our limits.
But it is most important to know Who is pulling the strings.
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