Carrying

Two monks, a younger and an older, were walking along a path near a river. Suddenly, they came upon a beautiful geisha who obviously wanted to cross. Without hesitation, the older of the men picked her up, carried her across, and set her gently down on the other side of the river.

As they continued walking, it was clear something was troubling the younger man. Finally he spoke. "Why did you carry her?" he asked. "You know we are not supposed to touch a woman."

The older monk turned and looked at him sadly, noting the accusatory tone. "I picked the woman up, carried her across the river, and put her down on the other side," he replied quietly. "Why are you still carrying her two kilometers later?"

I identify with the younger monk, and I'm willing to assume you have, too. I have carried many things with me that I had no need to carry.

Some of those things are hurts from my past. Things I was laughed at for, things I was misunderstood in, the way I felt some people used me, sins I have been forgiven for. It is past time for me to put those things down.

Other things that are easy to carry with me are things I don't understand. I think the things God has allowed in my life should make sense, and when I can find no logical explanation, I find it very hard to let go and relax into ignorance. Occasionally this applies to hardships I see other people experiencing, too.

Sometimes it is beliefs about myself that I carry with me. I am slowly catching on that what I believe about myself might not be right, but it's hard not to carry my negative self-views with me. They are familiar and comfortable, and there's something inherently terrifying about trading them out for a different viewpoint.

Maybe you have self-beliefs like this, too. The idea that you are unlovable or that you are a failure at life or that the compliments people give you are only them trying to be kind.

These are things that need to be dropped on the bank. Honestly, it would probably be fine to go ahead and fling them into the river. These burdens carry no benefit. But I understand. It's hard to let go of what you have believed. It's difficult to surrender your self-perceptions. It can feel impossible to place the things you don't understand in trusting submission into the hands of an all-knowing God.

There are relationships with other people that have hurt us deeply. Maybe we will never completely understand what went wrong. There is failure to understand the love God truly has for us, the way our good is utmost in His plan. When we try to configure a blueprint of our own self-worth, we often become hopelessly bogged down in not being enough. We have to learn to rest completely in the love of God and His design for each of us.

There are times I've been hurt that make me want to close myself off and determine never to be vulnerable again, but those hurts, too, must be set down. We were not meant to carry them with us.

We are told to cast our burdens and cares on the Lord (Psalm 55:22, 1 Peter 5:7), but it's so hard to do. We get a little protective of the weight we carry. We think it is ours, that it defines us, somehow, that carrying it with us gives us control over it.

But it's a myth. Carrying the burdens we are not meant to bear will only steal our freedom. It won't give us control. It won't make life easier or more predictable. Instead, we will find ourselves not living in the fulness God means for us to experience. We will unintentionally carry our past hurts into our current relationships and realities. Sometimes the things we carry with us become so big they ruin the beauty of what could be.

So here's what I'm striving for: a place of surrender where I turn over the things I am tempted to carry to a God who loves me more than I can fathom. A place of submission where I give away any sense of control that I have and trust my past, present, and future into the heart of a God who is so much bigger and wiser than I am. A place of trust where I can rest my doubts and fears in the hands of a gentle and good Father.

I am under no illusion that it will be simple. Neither do I expect that I will lay my burdens down only once. I know myself well enough to understand I will pick them up again and have to choose to let them go every time.

But I see a hope, a light, a little vision of what God might have for me and what He has for you, too. And so I will place my burden on the riverbank and not carry it with me for any more distance than is necessary. Will you drop yours and walk with me? There's strength in going together.