Baggage

For the longest time, I have loved going around with a backpack.

When I went to secondary school my Uncle Joe got me a blue and turquoise Hi-Tec sports bag. It was decent. But it was something else when someone showed me how it could be worn as a backpack. When someone showed me that, it was like a major ring went off in my head. From there I’ve loved going around with a backpack.

Not that it’s full. Rarely is it full. There must be ample space to put anything else in there that I might need to take with me. Yet that backpack will have the significant majority of things I’ll consider to be important to have with me just in case. There was beauty in having the backpack if I was going somewhere for an overnight stay. That backpack could comfortably take things like my clothes and the laptop and chargers that I felt I would need for the journey. It was ace.

I have heard it mentioned on more than a few occasions that people walk around with their baggage. That’s said in a metaphorical way. And that metaphor is more often than not pitched negatively. Still carrying the unforgiveness of the past. Still stumbling along under the weight of bitter recriminations after hurtful experience. Slowed to a halt having bought into the words that only brought you misery and pain – “You’ll never be good enough.” “I don’t know why you bother, you’re useless.”

Allow me to suggest, however, that the negatives about baggage are not taking into consideration the good things you have in that bag that can benefit you and others. It may not be a laptop but it could certainly a memorable joke that will make others laugh and relieve tension. It doesn’t have to be clothes, it could be the stories of deliverance that helps people build character.

Yes, it’s good to get rid of the unnecessary weight that easily besets you. Definitely keep on doing that. While you’re doing that, though, don’t neglect what else you carry with you – a skill, a quality, an experience or a challenge – that could really make a difference in the life of someone you come across.

You don’t even have to be carrying a backpack at the time.

(Photo by Liam Simpson on Unsplash)

For His Name’s Sake

Shalom

C. L. J. Dryden