The Red Backpack

There I was, booking it through the Magic Kingdom. I was fierce as mile after mile I pushed the double stroller that held my two boys. Up one Mickey hill and down every Goofy lane. In addition to pushing my precious cargo in a stroller that was slightly larger than my own body I carried a large red L.L. Bean backpack filled to the max with every snack, water bottle, wipe, rain coat, extra shirt, shoe, towel, and first aid kit that it could hold. I was a Target on wheels. My 21st century version of Mary Poppins' carpet bag.

To be honest, I felt very impressive. Strong, lithe, the I-can-do-it-all Mom!

Walking in my wake and wondering what in the world I was doing were three people who dearly love me: my husband and his parents. They continually offered their assistance as I sweetly refused. Don't they know I can do it all? I can carry this load all by myself!

See, this is something I'm very good at. Loading myself down, insisting I can do it all on my own...until I collapse with unnecessary exhaustion on my way to ride Dumbo the Flying Elephant.

This week I found myself once again burdened with a heavy load, but this time it came in the form of emotional cargo. We buried my beloved grandmother on Wednesday. It was a lovely home going service.  But the sadness of missing her along with worry for my mother who had just lost her mother, coupled with some other non-related issues that were making me angry - in short, I was crippled with all sorts of sorrow. By Thursday I knew that I couldn't cry. Because if I started I wouldn't be able to stop.

So I put on my big red backpack of fears, sorrows, and uncertainties. Loaded up my stroller of sadness and anger and I began carrying these burdens through a dark valley that resembled nothing of The Happiest Place on Earth.

But I couldn't do it. I tried to get my feet to move, tried to make it one more step, but as strong as I think I am - I'm just not. Profound sadness continued its threat to overtake me. I was on the cusp of intense anger and self-pity. Strength I have, yes. But not enough to carry this load.

Have you ever been here, friend? Saying, "God, it's too much! I can't hold up these burdens anymore!"

So I asked Him, "God, what do I do with my sorrow? With my fear? With my anger?"

You ask in expectation, sweet friend, and our God will answer:

My child, give your sorrow back to me. Dear one, let me combat your fears. Beloved, I will soothe your anger.

I cried aloud to the LORD, and he answered me from his holy hill. 

Psalm 3:4

In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears.

Psalm 18:6

Friend, drop the backpack. Stop pushing the stroller. Park in right there in the middle of Fantasyland. Sit down and eat some ice cream that's shaped like a mouse's head.

Because not only are you not strong enough to carry that weight - you're not supposed to be.

But He is. 

Cast all your cares upon Him for He cares for you.  

I Peter 5:7

Give your sorrow to Him. Turn it loose. In turning it loose you don't become weaker, you have become stronger because you are no longer relying on your pitiful amount of muscle.  

For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

II Corinthians 12:10

So, I did. I cried out. I gave Him my sorrows, my fears, my uncertainties. And when I walked back over to that backpack the weight of it was considerably less. The stroller moved along with ease.  

Life has bumps, bruises, and some downright nasty breaks.  But we are still created to live in fullness and joy. I cannot regain my joy by trying to conquer enemies against whom I stand no chance. They will consume me every time. They will turn me into someone I don't want to be.  

Dear one, I will not pretend that I know all of the sorrow and hurt you are carrying in your red backpack, but I do know that no matter how heavy it is, your God is strong enough to bear its load.

We are not meant to spend our days huffing and puffing, struggling with events and emotions that are too much for us.  So I shake off the little strength I have and trade it in for His. With this strength I can get back to the fullness of life and have joy of heart. 

And instead of spending all my energy carrying around unnecessary baggage, I'll choose to spend it on good things that bring joy - like riding a flying elephant with my sons.

LORD on your Holy Hill,

My soul cries out to you. I cannot deal with the shadows of sorrow, confusion, and worry on my own. Take my burdens, God. Show me how to turn them over to you. Return my heart to peace.

Lord, may it be so.