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MY BURDEN BEARER

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 25, 1897

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 23, No. 12.

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MY BURDEN BEARER.

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Alone I walked the path of life; So dark that path I could not see, No cheering star illumined the skies, No blessed presence walked with me.
Life’s burdens pressed upon me sore, The path grew rougher ’neath my feet; I counted all my burdens o’er, Fain would I halt or fain retreat.
But no, the moments onward sped As I pursued my toilsome race, While toward the misty path ahead I turned my hopeless, weary face.
Then little briars, sharp and keen, And thorns,—almost too small to see,— Like poisoned lances tore my heart, Like tiny daggers pierc’d me.
And then I knew—and all my soul It filled with bitterest despair— That careless friends had strewn the thorns And placed the cruel briers there.
And still my burdens heavier grew, I trembling trod the weary road, And every toilsome hour I knew Added fresh burdens to my load.
At last, I heard a kindly voice, Beheld a Stranger by my side; “Would’st let Me bear thy burdens, friend?” In tones of sympathy He cried.
But ah, I could not see His face, My eyes were dim with unshed tears, So turned me from that form of grace, And walked alone through weary years.
He came once more, again He plead, He asked to bear each heavy load; “Nay, I must bear them all,” I said, And sadly toiled along the road.
He gently plead in vain, the while I pressed my burdens to my heart, A pitying tear bedim’d His eye, And yet I bade the Man depart.
The years passed on, He came once more. In gentlest tones of love He said, “Friend, I have passed this way before, I know the path thy feet must tread.
“If thou wilt lean upon Mine arm, I’ll bear thy burdens all, for thee, I’ll shield thee from each rude alarm, O, would that thou could’st trust in Me.”
“O Stranger, Friend, Thy love prevails, Thou’st won at last my fickle heart, I yield to Thee my cumbrous load, Walk by my side, nor e’er depart.”
He took my load; so small it grew I wondered if it were the same, I looked and lo, he bore me too! And yet I had not asked His name.
And then my blinded eyes He touched, I looked, and saw His wounded side; I saw His pierc’d hands, and knew My helper was The Crucified.
MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.
Battle Creek, Mich.