Musings on the Second Week of Advent

It’s the second week of Advent, and I’m reading through Between Two Worlds: Daily Readings for Advent by Kate Moorehead. 

A few years ago, my mom and I started doing Bible studies together. We live about five hours apart, and reading through the same book has been a great way for us to close that gap. Every Sunday morning, we FaceTime for an hour or so over coffee, and when we are working through a book together, we spend that time talking through our readings and homework from the previous week. 

Between Two Worlds is a little book, about the size of a coaster. It has a reading for each day of Advent, and it takes only a few minutes to read through the pages every morning. Moorehead starts each day with a scripture verse and then dives into a personal anecdote to help translate ancient concepts to modern life. 

The Wednesday reading honed in on Matthew 11:28-30: 

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” 

Often, I worry about carrying the burden of Christ. Life in the 21st century comes with a lot of responsibilities, and I feel like I don’t have enough mental energy to take on another burden. 

• What if I don’t have the time or stamina? 

• What if taking on Christ’s yoke demands that I drop something else I’m carrying? 

• What if I miss out on something because Christ pulls me in a different direction? 

All of these questions are incredibly egocentric—an unfortunate symptom of humanity that seems to permeate our every thought, decision, and action. Without Christ, we think only of ourselves.

I worry about bringing my heavy burden to Christ, yet he offloads that baggage and gives me a lighter load through his grace and loving kindness. He doesn’t ask us to carry his burden in addition to our own. He takes ours—completely offloads it—and gives us his, which is much lighter and more manageable. 

The burden of Christ also demands that we look outside ourselves. Christ’s goal in becoming flesh dwelling among us was to bring grace and truth (John 1:14)—grace we cannot offer ourselves and truth we cannot understand without his guidance. 

Moorehead continued by writing, “We will never find true wholeness until we do what is counterintuitive, until we take on the burden of Christ. It is in learning to care for others that the greatest joy is to be found” (p. 46).

Learning to care for others as Christ did—carrying his burden—is counterintuitive to who we are. So many of our priorities are focused on self, whether it’s self-protection, self-care, self-improvement, or even self-consciousness. Without Christ, we are trapped and empty—alone with the burden of self. 

I liked how Moorehead summed her thoughts up:

“When we place the yoke of service to God on our soldiers, God gives us rest. Rest for our souls, that’s what Jesus promises. Rest from the torment of self-absorption, rest from endless searching for that perfect product that will make us complete, rest from the need to constantly do well and be liked. The rest that we all have been seeking for the entirety of our lives” (p. 47). 

I am a very self-aware person, and while this is a good thing in some circumstances, it can also be a very dark and lonely place. When I submit my burdens to the Lord, submit myself, and take on his yoke, I can rest. It’s an exercise in surrender to relinquish your hold on self, but it truly does result in a peace that surpasses all understanding. 

While Christmas is a season of giving and expectation, it can also become a season steeped in self. We make our wishlists and plan our activities and often feel sorry for ourselves if we don’t get the gifts or experiences we want. I’ve been in that place, especially when my husband has to work during the holidays. 

If you’re struggling to look past yourself and pass your burdens to the Lord so you can take on his lighter load, I encourage you to start by praying for others. So often our prayers are for ourselves—our job, our health, our finances, our romantic life… And these are good prayers—the Lord wants to hear them. But praying for others isn’t just for the other person. It’s also for you. It redirects your thoughts outside of yourself and invites God into your relationships. It focuses your attention on others. 

And don’t pray just for loved ones. Pray for your enemies. Or that coworker that always emails you after hours. Or the neighbor who plays loud music when you're trying to sleep. Pray for people you don’t know—people who are suffering with illness, heartache, poverty, or loss. People who don't know the Lord. When you bring them to God, he will give you the capacity to open your heart to others.

He will help you move outside of your own interests and fall in step with Christ’s grace and truth.

He will give you rest.