I see you there, fretting over your father’s shoulders as he bends to his desk. You love him, and it troubles you to see the furrow in his brow and the late hours he keeps. A pile of papers can seem a very mountain when a man must climb it alone, and you have done the best and kindest thing a child can do, you have brought the matter straight to the Lord Jesus. You have laid it before the one who knows what it is to work under the weight of a world’s necessity.
Do you know that your father’s table is as much an altar as any pew in a church, if the work there is done unto the Lord? The Master once said, “I must work,” and the cords that bound Him to His labor were cords of love. So your father, in his own measure, is working out of love, for you, for your household, for the duties God has set in his path. That is not a small thing. It is a holy thing, and the Lord Jesus honors it. He who stood on the beach watching the shipwreck and felt in His soul, “I must work to rescue them,” is the same Christ who sees your father’s labor and is not indifferent to a single line of that paperwork. He knows what it is to be straitened until a task is done. So when you ask Him to help, you are not pestering an unwilling ear. You are appealing to a heart that understands.
The weight your father feels, the stress that tightens his mind, I want you to picture that as a heavy sack he has been carrying. Now hear this: the work of Christ does not exempt us from work, but it changes whose strength we lean upon while we do it. The Apostle Paul labored and strove, yet he said it was Christ mightily working within him. So your prayer is not that your father would stop working, but that Another would come and slip beneath the load with him. When a boy helps his father carry a log, he does not remove the log, he bears up under one end while the father bears the other. So our Lord Jesus becomes the yoke-fellow of those who cry to Him. He does not always whisk the burden away; often He lifts it from the inside, making the shoulders broad that were stooping, filling the heart with a quiet resolve when the natural strength is spent.
And here is a sweet thought for you to hold: this very business is in the hands of the Carpenter. He who finished the great work of our salvation knows how to finish a smaller task faithfully. “It is finished” was the cry from the cross, and because that grand transaction is complete, every lesser anxiety of ours is tucked inside its folds. Your father’s paperwork will get done. Perhaps not all at once, perhaps with pauses and deep breaths, but the Lord who worked a Sabbath miracle by saying, “Take up your bed and walk,” can bring order to a tangled desk and clarity to a weary mind. The help may come as a surprising spurt of speed, or a calm settling over the room, or a friend who lifts some other obligation. However it comes, you may trace it back to the throne of grace where a child’s prayer was heard.
Be at peace, then, and do not let your young heart grow heavy. The same God who establishes the work of our hands is looking on your father’s hands tonight. Commend him often to Heaven, and trust that the Lord who gathers the wheat into His garner will not let a single sincere effort of your father’s fall to the ground. You are learning early what many take a lifetime to discover: that the best help we can give those we love is to place them, by prayer, into the care of the One who loves them best.
Let us pray.
Lord Jesus, you who once said, “I must work,” look now upon this dear father who is heavy with labor. Quiet his spirit and give him a clear mind. Let the papers before him be ordered and the hours be multiplied in their yield, so that what must be done is done and the weight rolls away. Relieve him from the stress that pinches, and let him feel, even at his desk, that he does not toil alone, for you are with him. And bless this child who loves him and trusts in your name. Give them both a peaceful night and a joyful morning. Amen.