Christ Bears Our Burdens

Ellen G. White


Matthew 11:28-30 "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Help has been laid upon One who is mighty. The great burden-bearer, who took our nature that he might understand how to sympathize with our frailty, and with our temptations, knows how to succor those that are tempted. And does he say, Carry your burdens yourself? No; but, Come unto me ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls; for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. But you say, It is this yoke that I have dreaded to wear, and this burden I have endeavored to shun. But Christ says the yoke he has prepared for you to wear is easy if you submit your neck to it, and the burden is light if you cheerfully and resolutely lift it. “Come unto me,” says Christ, “and I will give you rest.” How much lighter than the burden of sin and iniquity that you take along. How much lighter than the conscience which is constantly stinging and reproaching you. A violated conscience is hard to be endured. How much easier is the yoke of Christ than all this! {RH April 19, 1870, par. 12}

The trouble is, the meekness is lacking; the lowliness is not there. We are not willing to come right down to the simplicity of the gospel. We want honor one of another. We are not willing to suffer affliction with the people of God, as was Moses. We are not willing to have our names cast out as evil. And although all Heaven is inviting us to break away from the influence of earth, and fix our eye upon things of immortal worth, yet we keep them fixed upon the bubbles of earth. We are unwilling to have our affections elevated. We are like a prostrate vine, its tendrils clinging to worthless stubble. Let your tendrils entwine around the throne of God. You are unwilling that the soul should be uplifted to God. You allow your mind to be diverted with the things right around you here; and while you are doing this, the heavenly glory is eclipsed, it is lost sight of. {RH April 19, 1870, par. 13}

The Majesty of Heaven is standing before the Father, pleading, My blood, my blood; spare the sinner a little longer for my sake. What are you doing for him while he is pleading? Seeking your pleasure, following in the ways of folly, corruption, sin, and iniquity; and yet he is pleading his blood before the throne of his Father! Oh! can you not be entreated to come? We entreat you to come. Come now, just as you are. Come, turn and live. Come to the Burden-bearer. {RH April 19, 1870, par. 14}

Mothers, who have so many burdens to bear, you see your children going astray, and you feel your lack of wisdom and strength to lead them the right way. Jesus says to you, “Come.” Sisters, who have your burdens to bear, of care and perplexity, so much so that you often feel that life is a burden, let me say to you, The Burden-bearer, the Majesty of Heaven, has invited you to come unto Him. Come, He says, unto me, and lay your burdens upon me. {RH April 19, 1870, par. 15}

Will you come? You may tell your sorrows to one another; but the case of others might not be like yours, so they could not appreciate your burden of sorrow should you tell them of it. And then you hug it again to your heart, and your dry and tearless eye does not discover your burden to those around you. But you open the Bible, and there you read, Come unto me, ye that are heavy laden, and ye shall find rest to your souls; and you say, Oh! here is the promise such as I need. And again you read, We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and you say, Here I come to thee, Father, with my burden of anxiety, and will lay it at thy feet. You come to God in prayer, and you say, Here Lord, my anguish is so great I cannot form my prayer into words, but, Lord, thou understandest it all, and I lay my burden upon thee, the Burden-bearer. I will lay it on thee, and thou hast promised to take it. Take my burden of cares, I cannot carry it any longer; now, Lord, bear it for me. Now since you have thus carried your burden to the Lord, leave it there; do not take it away with you. Many come to the Lord in this way, and they never really lay their burden upon him; for they gather it all up again, and carry it away with them. You are not to do this. Leave your burden there, leave it with the Burden-bearer, he has promised to take it. Then come away and say, I will not gather my burden up again, but when I have left it with Jesus, I will not begin to worry about it again. And then let the anguish of your soul be exchanged for rejoicing in the Lord. You are not to go with your heads bowed down in darkness, and crying, Oh, my troubles and perplexities! No; there is something better for you to dwell upon. It is the immortal treasure, the exceeding great reward; it is to talk of the matchless charms of the loving Saviour, and his undying love for sinners. Think of this, and you will not consider that you have had any trials worth speaking of. Go to Calvary, and behold the agony of the Son of God upon the cross, and your little trials will sink into insignificance. {RH April 19, 1870, par. 16}