The Suitcase

Amidst the crowded streets of Jerusalem
A woman weaves her way slowly
Through the crowds, the noise, the walls of stone
Dragging her suitcase behind her.

Her suitcase of life
Filled with the past. Thoughts of the future.
Carrying the joys, the pain, the memories
The hopes and dreams.

Yet made heavy with the disappointment.
Bulging with fear. Weighted down by discontentment.
Worry and anxiety hiding secretly in its corners.
Grief spilling out from it’s pockets.
Rejection corked in bottles.
Perfectionism wrapped up neatly in boxes.
Sin crouching in her shoes.
Unresolved issues in vacuum sucked bags.
And offence reproducing in the casing.
A spaceless case filled with emotional baggage.

Her journey is slow
And the weight behind her unbearable.
Yet she plods through the throngs
Grumpy as they jostle her
Barking at those in her way
Frustrated at the bulk she is carrying.

But she finds the path
Up to Golgotha
To find that cross
To find that man
That people say can lighten your load.

And when she finds him
Silhouetted against a dark sky
She observes the crown of thorns
The bare feet
The nails
The agony of a man close to death.

He sees her
She is held captive
By a look of love and hope
As she opens her case at the foot of the cross
She whispers through tears ‘ I can carry this no longer’
Please take these from me- I give them to you.

She empties her case
Of every item that ever made it’s home in there
Surrendering them at the cross.
As the drops of blood cover her burdens
And the power of His presence wraps around her.

‘Pick up your case and keeping walking’ he whispers
‘For my burden is light and and you shall have rest for your soul’.

old-suitcase-with-red-shoes-left-on-road-sandra-cunningham