What Are You Carrying?

There is a question I think we should ask ourselves more often. Not, "How are you?" because we have gotten really good at answering that one...

"I'm good."

"I'm fine."

"Just tired."

"It's been a long week."

"I'm hanging in there."

We say these things almost automatically. Sometimes they are true, but sometimes they aren't. Sometimes "I'm fine" is just the easiest answer when the real answer would take too long to explain. So let me ask you something different.

What are you carrying? Not what's on your calendar or what is sitting on your to-do list and definitely not the responsibilities everyone can see. I mean the things you carry quietly. The things you don't talk about. The things that don't show up when someone asks how your day was. What are you carrying? Could be disappointment, grief, even resentment that you wish you didn't have. Maybe it's guilt, shame, or a relationship that is becoming heavier than you ever expected. There is a chance it is fear that something isn't going to happen or fear of what will happen and you don't feel ready for it. Maybe you are carrying the pressure of being the strong one or you are still dragging around an old version of yourself that you're desperately trying to become again. It could be an expectation that you can't meet or you are carrying something that God asked you to surrender a long time ago...and somehow picked back up. Maybe you don't even know what you're carrying anymore, all that you know is that you are tired. And sometimes that is where we have to begin. Not with fixing, not with answers, just with honesty.

We don't always notice the weight. One of the strange things about carrying something for a long time is that eventually, it starts to feel normal. You adjust and learn how to walk with it. You figure out how to carry it while doing everything else;

You laugh with it.

Work with it.

Go to church with it.

Make dinner with it.

Answer emails with it.

Take pictures with it.

You can look completely fine while carrying something incredibly heavy. And because you have become good at functioning under the weight, people may never realize you're struggling. Sometimes even YOU forget. Until one day you realize you're exhausted in a way that sleep can't fix. You're irritable, overwhelmed, emotionally distant. Little things feel enormous. Someone asks a simple question and you feel like crying. You sit in your car for an extra five minutes because you don't have the energy to walk inside. You wake up tired already and you start resenting things that you used to love. You don't understand why you're frustrated all the time. Maybe you aren't lazy or ungrateful, and maybe you aren't failing. Maybe you're just carrying too much. There is a difference.

Sometimes we carry what was never ours. This is where we can get ourselves into trouble, Because sometimes we assume that if we're able to carry something, we're supposed to. But those are not the same thing. 

Just because you're capable of carrying something doesn't mean God asked you to carry it. Think how often you find yourself saying;

"I can handle it."

"It's okay, I'll do it."

"Someone has to."

"They need me."

"If I don't take care of it, nobody will."

"I should be able to deal with this."

"Other people have it worse."

"It's just easier if I do it myself."

I personally have said every single one of these, so I know how easy it is to just pick things up. Then we pick something else up, and something else. Until we're walking around with an invisible pile of things that were never meant to become ours. Someone else's emotions, choices, expectations, approval, consequences. A future that hasn't happened, a past that cannot be changed, or a problem only God can solve. Somewhere in that mess, we confuse control with responsibility. We think if we worry about something enough, we are somehow helping. If we replay the conversation enough, maybe we'll find the perfect words. If we plan every possible outcome, maybe nothing will surprise us. If we keep checking, keep fixing, keep anticipating, keep holding everything together...maybe we can prevent something from falling apart. But what if you were never meant to hold it together? What if that was never your job?

The things we carry because we love. This is the complicated part. Sometimes we carry things because we care. We carry our families, our friends, the people we love when they're hurting. We pray for them, show up, sacrifice, serve, give. And there is something so beautiful about loving people well. Jesus never called us to indifference. But there is a difference between loving someone and taking responsibility for everything they experience. You can love someone without being able to fix them. You can pray for someone without being able to save them. You can support someone without carrying their entire life on your back. You can be there for someone without becoming responsible for every choice they make. Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is put someone back into God's hands. Because we were never meant to be their savior, and neither were they meant to be ours.

What about the things we wish we could control? Maybe one of the heaviest things we carry is the future. We carry tomorrow before it ever arrives. We worry about conversations that have not even happened. We grieve things we haven't lost. We fear outcomes we haven't experienced. We create tragedies in our minds and then live through them emotionally before reality ever gets the chance to tell us the truth. We do this because uncertainty is uncomfortable. We want to know, be prepared, have guarantees, and we want God to show us the entire road before we're willing to take the next step. But faith doesn't usually work that way. God gives us enough light for the step we're standing on. Not always the entire staircase. And maybe that's because if He showed us everything at once, we would spend so much time worrying about tomorrow that we'd miss what He's doing today. Jesus tells us in Matthew 6 not to worry about tomorrow because tomorrow will worry about itself. Tomorrow has enough of it's own trouble. You do not have to live tomorrow today. Let that sink in...you do not have to carry tomorrow today.

The burden of being "the strong one." There is another kind of carrying that doesn't get talked about enough. Being the strong one. The person everyone assumes is okay because you've always been okay. the person who doesn't ask for help. The person who knows how to keep moving even when something inside of you is falling apart. Maybe you've become so good at being dependable that people forget you're human. Maybe you've trained yourself not to need anything. You tell yourself:

"I'll figure it out."

"I'll deal with it later."

"I don’t want to bother anyone."

"Other people need more help than I do."

So you keep giving, showing up, smiling, serving, and saying yes. Until eventually you have nothing left. Then you feel guilty for being empty. But being empty does not mean that you have failed. Sometimes it means you've been pouring from a cup you never allowed God to refill. READ THAT SENTENCE AGAIN. You have been pouring from a cup you never allowed God to refill. You were never created to be an endless source. You are not God. And that's good news! Because it means you don't have to be. You don’t have to know everything. You don't have to fix everything, predict everything, provide everything, save everyone, hold everyone together. You get to be a human who has limits. That needs rest and help. You can say "no", "I don't know", "I can't." And you can also say, "God, I need you."

Jesus never asked you to carry everything. There is an invitation from Jesus that I think we read too quickly. In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Come to me. NOT clean up first, not figure everything out, not be stronger, not carry it a little longer so you can prove you are capable. Come. To. Me.

Come to Jesus weary, burdened, exhausted, overwhelmed. Jesus describes His yoke as easy and His burden as light. That does not mean following Jesus means life will never be difficult, don't twist what I am trying to point out to you. It simply means we don’t have to walk through difficult things alone. There is a burden God gives us and then there are burdens that we create. There is a responsibility that belongs to us and then there is a responsibility that belongs to Him. The problem is that we often take God's portion and ours...and we put both on our shoulders. Then we wonder why we're exhausted.

Surrender is not giving up. I think we tend to misunderstand surrender. We hear "give it to God" and think that means we stop caring. It doesn't. Surrender isn't apathy. It isn't laziness and it isn't us refusing to do our part. Surrender is recognizing where our part ends and God's begins. It's saying, "God, I'll do what You've asked me to do. But I will not try to do what only You can do."

I'll apologize, but I can't control whether they forgive me. I'll make the wise decision, but I can't control the outcome. I'll love them, but I can't control whether they love me back. I'll pray, but I can't force the answer. I'll prepare, but I can't guarantee what tomorrow brings. I'll be faithful, but I can't manufacture the results. 

That's surrender. It's doing what is yours to do and trusting God with what isn't.

Cast it on Him. 1 Peter 5:7 says, "Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you." Not some of it, but all of it. The ugly, the embarrassing, the fears that are irrational, the things you think you should have outgrown by now. The shame, the things you don't know how to fix, and the things you don't understand. Cast them on Him. And did you notice the reasons we were given? Because He cares for you. Not because you're annoying Him. Not because your problems are too small to matter. Not because you should have figured it out already. Because He cares. God isn't standing over you asking why you're still struggling with the same thing. he's inviting you to bring it to Him again. And again and again. As many times as it takes. Because grace doesn't run out just because you have to surrender the same thing more than once.

But what if I keep picking it back up? Maybe you've read all of this and thought "okay. But I've already given it to God." And then you worried about it again. You surrendered it, then took it back. You prayed about it, then tried to control it. You cried about it, then convinced yourself you needed to figure it out. If that is you, please hear this:

You're not failing at surrender because you struggle to surrender. Sometime surrender is a daily decision. It can even be an hourly decision or a moment-by-moment decision. 

"God, I'm giving this to You." > five minutes later > "I'm taking this back." > and then > "No. I am giving it to You again."

That is not hypocrisy, that is learning to trust. And maybe the goal isn't to reach some magical place where you never worry again, but the goal is learning how to notice when you've picked the burden back up and becoming quicker to put it back down.

Open your hands. Imagine holding something tightly in your hands. Your knuckles are white, your fingers hurt, you're exhausted from gripping it, but you don't let go. Maybe you're afraid that if you release it, you'll lose it. Maybe you're afraid God won't handle it the way you would. Maybe you're afraid that if you stop controlling it, everything will fall apart. So you hold tighter, and tighter, and tighter. But eventually, your hands have to open. And that may be what God's asking of some of us. Not to understand, know, or have the answer. But to just open our hands and say, "God, I trust You with this." Even if you don't. "God, I trust You with my future." Even when the unknown terrifies you. "God, I trust You with the outcome." Even when you don't like the possibilities. "God, I trust You with my life." Even when you wish you could see five steps ahead. That's faith. Trust.

So...what are you carrying? Truly stop for a minute, take a breath, and ask yourself this question. Don't just give an easy answer, go deeper. What has been weighing on you? What are you afraid of? What are you trying to control? What emotions have you taken responsibility for? What are you holding onto because you're afraid to let go?  What are you replaying? Regretting? Grieving? What are you trying desperately to fix? What are you carrying that God never asked you to carry? 

What would happen if you gave it to Him? Maybe you don't know, and that's okay. You don't have to know what happens after surrender. You just have to decide whether you're willing to trust the One you're surrendering it to. Because God doesn't promise that everything you give Him will immediately change. But He does promise that you don’t have to carry it alone.

Put it down. Maybe today is the day you put something down. Not because it doesn't matter, but because it matters too much to keep carrying it by yourself. It might be a person, a relationship, your future, your past, your job. An apology you can't force, forgiveness you are struggling to give, or maybe it's the need to be understood. It could be control, pressure to be everything to everyone, the belief that if you're not useful you're not valuable. Maybe it's simply the exhausting need to have all the answers. Whatever it is...bring it to God. Bring it however you need to, and open your hands.

My prayer over you, over the person who is carrying too much.

God, you know what we're carrying. Even the things we haven't said out loud. You know the weight behind the smile and the fear behind the confidence. You know the exhaustion behind every "I'm fine." You know the things we have picked up because we thought we had to and you know the things we've held onto because we are afraid to let go. And God, we're tired. Some of us are tired in ways that we don't even know how to explain. We're tired of trying to control things that we can't and we are tired of being strong. We are tired of pretending to have answers for everything and we are tired of carrying tomorrow. We are tired of carrying people, the past, the future, expectations, and everything in between that You have never asked us to carry. So today, Lord, we open our hands. We give You our fear, disappointment, relationships, unanswered questions, our past and future, and the things we cannot fix. Teach us to trust You with what we cannot control. Teach us to recognize the difference between responsibility and control. Teach us that resting isn't weakness and that asking for help isn't failure. Teach us that being human isn't something we need to apologize for. And when we inevitably pick these things back up, gently remind us that we have already given it to You. Help us trust You enough to leave it there. We don't need to know what tomorrow holds, only that You are the One who holds it. And if that is all that we know today, let it be enough. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

There is a God who sees you, cares for you, and He says "come to me." Bring it all, open your hands, and put it down. Then leave it there. Jesus loves you, and I do, too.