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In the short film, Burdens, the main character lays the things she’s carried, endured, to rest. In honor of the movie, and the action of the main character, SiS presents the poem, “Loose.”

“Loose” represents what we can feel once you give our burdens to the one that can handle the burdens and eliminate them: our Father.

 

Loose

 

Ooh,
When you do,
What you do,
Where you do,
Why you do,
How you do,
I become loose.

Get your mind out the gutter,
for I’m talking about one
who is like no other,
my Lord, my Savior, my Father.

He took me, a
hardheaded,
foul-mouthed,
negative-thinking,
envy-having,
fear-collecting,
happiness-depriving,
bad past-reflecting
woman, and He
shook me loose and free
like crisp white sheets
on the line being whipped
by a stiff, spring breeze.

At first, I stood,
defiant, reluctant to
let Him in, but when
He wants in, it’s not up
to you whether the door
opens or not.

“Do you want to be loose?”
He asked me, but I stood
there, still, with
unmoving lips,
hand upon hips
though my mind screamed,
“Rescue me from the life
I’ve created for myself.”

And He did.

Piece by piece,
Peace by peace,
He did.

He touched my eyes and said,
“See with all your heart and soul,”
and before me was a straight path
full of golden-lit goals.

He touched my nose and said,
“Take in your new life,” and instead
of the decay of inner city, I
breathed light and air with no strife.

He touched my ears and said,
“Listen with all your heart and soul,”
and I could hear words of encouragement
and love in a soft, sweet echo.

He touched my mind and said,
“Remember not your past so that you
can feel guilt, but remember so that a
better life in the future can be built.”

He touched my hands and said,
“When in doubt, lift them high,”
and fingertips reached heavenward
because on only Him could I rely.

He touched my mouth and said,
“Let your praises be heard,” and
beautiful music lifted from some
place inside my soul that stirred.

He touched my feet and said,
“Let them move for me,” and my
hip dipped, my hair swayed, and my
feet danced as if set free.

It wasn’t easy,
the loosening.
Nothing good in life
ever comes easily,
but it came,
the loosening,
slowly, but surely,
it came, and He
took me,
piece by piece,
peace by peace,
and released
all burden from me,
leaving me
light,
loose,
and free
to dance.

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In the short film, Burdens, the main character lays the things she’s carried, endured, to rest. In honor of the movie, and the action of the main character, SiS presents the poem, “The Things You Carried.” We all carry something, many things often that should be laid to rest so that we can be the best we can be. We at SiS hope you find a word within the words of this poem.

The Things You Carried

You carried many things – some good and some bad; however, what hunched your shoulders, what sprouted sweat upon your brow, what grew a heart heavy, what made a spirit falter, what made faith dissipate, what made believing unimaginable were your burdens.

You carried

Lack of Money
Hunger
Thirst
Depression
Desperation
Heartache
Lies
Betrayals
Two-faced Friends
Backstabbing Co-workers
Familial Strife
Abuse
Disease
Discrimination
Distrust
Dysfunction
Deaths
Missed Opportunities
Societal Norms
Body Image Issues
Loneliness
Blame
Resentment
Jealousy
Anger
Fear of Any and Everything
Worry about the
Past
Present
Future

As the first burden takes shape, falls upon your back, and becomes a part of you; the tiniest of cracks forms. Invisible to the naked eye, invisible to all but two: God and the Devil.

God – the knower of all things, He who can do all things – watches, standing beside you, never leaving you, trying desperately to get you to believe, to remember that He never gives you more than you can bear.

But you can’t hear. That crack, that tiniest of slits upon your psyche is just big enough for the Devil to niggle his way in, to whisper in your ear, onto your mind, into your heart your worthlessness. He tells you, “Yes, you deserve heartache. Yes, your fears are valid. Yes, you will die from cancer. Yes, that person is better than you because you’re poor. Yes, you’re fat and no one will love you. Yes, feed off your jealousy and riddle your body with its murky green acid. Yes, your man hits you, but don’t you think you deserve it? Yes, you’re without money and you will always – forever and a day – worry about having shelter and food. Yes, you are nothing, and no good shall ever come upon you.”

And you listen. And you believe. And you allow every negative word to feast upon you until you’re so desolate, so empty, so without that you become like a cracked shell upon a beach – discarded and abandoned.

As that last burden, that last straw falls upon your back, breaking it, you isolate yourself. No one would ever understand what you’re going through. You have to be the only person on earth going through so much pain. You don’t want to lay your burdens upon others. You don’t want anyone to see you cry.

And when you are alone, in that quiet space that frightens you, you hear him – the Devil – whispering his ugly words, his death breath brushing across your cheeks.

Others try to talk to you. Friends try to get you to go out. Mother calls, asking, “Baby, are you okay? I’m worried about you. So is Dad.” And you try to smile, but the face distorts as abstract as a Picasso painting.

At the moment in which your back does break, you fall upon your knees and cry like a baby fresh from its mother’s womb, but it is you who are giving birth.

You’ve carried, for so long, your burdens – feeding them the right negative nutrients, nurturing them into angry growth – and as the water breaks from you, you cry to God to help you deal with the painful birth.

He smiles. He’s been waiting, lovingly waiting to hear His name, to feel your connection, and He whispers into your spirit, “Come to me, you who are weary and heavy-laden, 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 soul. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light” (Matt 11:28-30).

You push. You breathe. You scream. You grunt. You bleed. You battle with the burden that has been a part of you for so long, it wishes not to depart.

But it does, when you scream with the voices of a thousand lost souls and allow your burden to rip itself from you and fall upon the ground – red and ugly as sin.

No nurses rush to its aid. No one tries to resuscitate it, for your burdens have now been laid.

Your breathing slows. Your weeping grows, but not of pain – of joy of the living water that pours from your eyes and caresses your cheeks as it takes it journey to your chin and falls away.

In the warm, glowing silence of after birth, you scream like a baby reaching deep into its lungs for its first breath.

And you are born anew.

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Charisma Productions, in conjunction with SiS Films (Sisters in Spirit), is proud to bring to you Shon Charisma’s debut short, Burdens. IRL, the script was a finalist in the 2008 WILDsound One Page Screenplay Competition. Shon decided to create the movie in Second Life because of her connection with Sisters in Spirit. As founder, she wants SiS to be a place where women can talk about the burdens they carry. It’s in the voicing that women can begin to release. In the future, Shon will be working on slightly bigger projects that feature strong women, both young and old, working to love one another and make their lives stronger, better.

For now, sit back and enjoy the short film, Burdens.

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With SiS, we hope to develop short films that touch upon the variety of situations women face while living their lives. We hope that by doing so discussions can begin on those situations and the importance of and need for faith and action to combat those situations.

On November 22, 2011, SiS will premiere its first short film, Burdens, here on the site. The film, all one and a half minutes of it, centers on a woman who lays her burdens down so that she can move on with her life. Other stories will tackle topics, such as parenting, divorce, premarital sex, and depression.

Here are some pictures from the Burdens shoot.

Cabbie, Saphire Chenault, behind while I stand in the road, daring a car to hit me.

 

I’m not sure why we felt the need to dry the cab off the road.

Or to hit the funeral parlor…

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