When We Wonder What to Carry & What To Leave Behind

Years ago, in a time of fewer wrinkles and wobbly bits, I worked with my husband at a year-round Christian camp in central Pennsylvania. During our time there, we co-led several adventure trips that took us ‘over the river and through the woods,’ to various parts of the state.

Every summer, we had the privilege of leading a small group of teenagers for a weeklong hike on the Appalachian Trail. One memorable Sunday evening while campers were emptying their backpacks and consolidating gear, I inwardly cringed at the contents of one pack strewn about on the floor beside me. Like the great fish tossed Jonah onto dry land, this backpack spewed the following: a pair of satin pajamas, a large handheld mirror of the antique variety, a pair of very heavy sneakers, and a make-up bag complete with concealer, foundation, mascara, and lipstick. If one could win an award for “Best Non-Essentials in a Backpack,” we had a gold medal contender in our midst.

Maybe this beloved high schooler misunderstood the packing list we had mailed weeks prior, the one that did not include Grandma’s heirloom mirror. Maybe she hoped these items would bring a sense of comfort while she was away from her family. Her rationale escaped me but in the quiet of that moment, she began to realize that her heavy ideals were better left at home. They were not suitable for life on the trail and would take up valuable space, where a rain tarp or weekly stash of granola bars–items that would serve the entire group–could be stored. In trying to help her discern the essentials, I leaned over and gently asked, “Are you willing to carry the weight of what you don’t really need?”

There’s no denying that these past nine months have been difficult and complicated for all of us for countless reasons and to varying degrees. As we step into this new year with no guarantee of what lies ahead for our families, schools, places of work and worship, and communities, I offer a simple guide to help us consider what we’re carrying and what we might be able to leave behind–or at least begin to release.

First, we can get curious about the load on our backs. Like my team of hikers, we can ‘spill the contents’–without judgment. What is inside our proverbial packs? Disappointment over the harsh realities of 2020? Grief for what we and our communities have suffered and lost? Resentment toward a family member or friend who didn’t vote like we did? Certainty that we’re ‘right’ about all things political? Excess ‘stuff’ in our homes that no longer serves us or those living with us? Resources and a commitment to learn and grow as an antiracist? Empathy and care for those whose lives differ from ours? Hope that amidst all the dark, there is a God of light who calls us ‘beloved?’ Taking time to be still and name what we’re carrying is a helpful first step. 

Second, we can ask the Lord whether we’re meant to carry this particular load. Is this a sin to confess or unhealthy habit to leave behind? Is this a familiar but false narrative that needs tossed or rewritten? Is this a load someone else expects us to carry for them? Is this a load worth carrying because it invites us to live like Jesus and it matters for the flourishing of all? 

Some of the weight we carry is simply a part of life. Some of the weight is unique to our own journey. Some weight feels heavier, depending on the season or our ability to manage it. Maybe we’re caring for an aging parent or wondering when our toddler will outgrow her impossible behaviors. Maybe we’re struggling with a chronic illness, a child who needs extra support, a prodigal loved one, a broken relationship, or a job loss or transition. 

For reasons beyond our limited knowledge, we’ve been tasked to carry a particular load–but we’re never asked to carry it alone. God promises his kind and faithful presence and he has given the gift of his people to help us through with their tangible support and prayer.

Finally, we can connect with a trusted friend, pastor, or trained professional who can offer objectivity and wisdom as we unload our pack or discover a better way to carry it. When my dear camper was filling her bag at home, heavy sneakers and a make-up kit made sense for her weeklong trek in the woods, but when she revealed the contents and allowed me to offer counsel, she understood that the extra weight would be burdensome to her–and to her fellow hikers. 

Whatever load we might be carrying or however we might be carrying it, we have a loving God who assures us we do not need to hold on to the excess weight–nor do we need to muscle ahead on our own. 

As we embark on a new year, may we take the time to examine what we’re bringing with us, to discern what the Lord might have us do with it, and to move forward in freedom from any unnecessary burdens that might be hindering us from the Divine work we’re called to do and the people we’re called to love.  

Featured image by Denisse Leon at Unsplash