What Are You Still Carrying?

There comes a time in life when we begin to recognize the difference between what we can carry and what we are called to carry.

The distinction matters.

Many of us have become remarkably capable women. We know how to make things work. We have cared for children, parents, spouses, friends, congregations, classrooms, workplaces and communities. We have solved problems no one knew existed. We have remembered birthdays, kept appointments, stretched dollars, mediated disagreements, encouraged discouraged people and continued moving when we ourselves were tired.

There can be satisfaction in being the woman others know they can depend upon. Being needed may even become part of how we understand ourselves.

After enough years, capability can quietly become assignment.

I can handle it becomes I should handle it.

I know how to help becomes It is my responsibility to help.

They need me becomes I cannot put this down.

And sometimes we carry something for so long that we stop asking whether it still belongs in our hands. We simply adjust to its weight.

But being capable of doing something does not always mean we have the capacity to carry it. We may possess the skill and still lack the time, energy, or other resources needed to do it well.

Perhaps there are three questions worth asking:

Capability asks: Can I do this?

Capacity asks: Do I have what is needed to carry this now?

Calling asks: Is this mine to do?

It is possible to answer yes to the first question and no to the second. It is also possible to possess both the capability and the capacity and still discover that the answer to the third question is no.

When Yesterday’s Assignment Follows Us Into Today

There are responsibilities that were absolutely ours for a season.

A child needed protecting. A family needed stabilizing. A friend needed support. A job required extraordinary effort. A difficult season required us to become stronger, more watchful or more self-reliant than we might otherwise have been.

Those responses may have served us well. What once required our strength may have helped develop that strength. But growth does not necessarily mean continuing to perform the same assignment forever.

Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is ‘a time to keep, and a time to cast away.’ (Ecclesiastes 3:6, KJV)

We usually understand this when we think about possessions. We clean closets. We give away clothing that no longer fits. We discard things that are broken. We make room.

It can be much harder to recognize that there are also responsibilities, expectations, fears and roles that no longer fit.

Perhaps you are still trying to keep everyone in the family at peace.

Perhaps you continue solving problems for an adult child who is capable of learning to solve them herself.

Perhaps you feel responsible for another person’s disappointment.

Perhaps you are maintaining a friendship almost entirely by yourself because you remember what the relationship once was.

Perhaps you continue saying yes because the woman you were twenty years ago always said yes.

Or perhaps what you are carrying is not another person at all. It may be an old mistake. An old label. An old regret. An old version of yourself.

Put It on the Map

One of the gifts of growing older is that we have accumulated evidence. We have lived long enough to notice patterns.

We can look back and say, Every time this happens, I respond this way.

That is useful information.

A map does not criticize the landscape. It simply helps us see where we are.

We cannot make an intentional choice about where we are going while refusing to acknowledge where we are.

So rather than immediately asking, How do I fix this?, consider asking something quieter:

What am I carrying right now?

Then ask:

Is it actually mine to carry?

Those are different questions.

Something may concern you without belonging to you.

You may love someone without being responsible for her choices.

You may care deeply about an outcome without being able to control it.

You may forgive someone without returning to the same relationship.

You may remember something without continuing to live beneath it.

You may be able to solve a problem and still decide that solving it is not your assignment.

That is not indifference. Sometimes it is wisdom.

Turn to the Lantern

A map helps us recognize what is. A lantern helps illuminate what we choose next.

That next choice does not always require a dramatic announcement.

You may simply stop volunteering first.

Allow someone else to answer the question.

Wait before saying yes.

Let another capable adult experience the consequence of her own decision.

Stop explaining a boundary that has already been clearly stated.

Put down an expectation you inherited but never consciously chose.

Or decide that something is still yours to carry and carry it now with intention rather than resentment.

The purpose is not to drop everything.

The purpose is to know the difference.

Jesus said: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28, KJV)

Notice that He acknowledged the burden. He did not pretend there was nothing heavy.

Rest does not always mean that our circumstances disappear.

Sometimes rest begins when we stop adding burdens God never asked us to carry.

One Practical Step for This Week

Take a sheet of paper and write:

WHAT I AM CARRYING

Without judging yourself, write down whatever comes to mind: people, responsibilities, worries, expectations, unfinished decisions, old hurts and obligations.

Then place one of three words beside each:

MINE
This genuinely belongs to me

SHARED
I have a role, but I am not solely responsible

NOT MINE
I care about this, but it does not belong in my hands

Putting it down does not require me to stop caring.

Do not try to resolve the entire list.

Choose one item.

If it is yours, ask how you can carry it faithfully.

If it is shared, identify what portion is actually yours.

If it is not yours, consider what putting it down might look like.

That is enough for this week.