You May Be a Louis, but I Don't Want You Anymore
Gosh, I had the most bizarre dream last night. And there were people in it -- from a particular period of my life, that I still carry SUCH baggage from: high school.
Here's what mine looks like, maybe you can relate.
I wish that things were different. That I felt different. That people saw me… for who I actually was. (Not what they wanted to see.)
That I had the courage to show them who I actually was.
And even now, 20-some-odd years later, still feeling this at times, crippling burden of having to prove myself and my worth to them. Yet never being able to. Yuck.
As I type, I am reminded of this truth:
We all carry baggage. And it's a HEAVY buggar. The kind you can barely get out of the trunk it's so full and precarious. The baggage we carry around with us isn't like some cheap-o, Ziplock baggie full of plastic, insignificant, replaceable items that we could just accidentally leave somewhere and never come back to.
Oh wouldn’t that be grand?
No – our baggage is like a giant, packed-to-the-brim, Louis Vuitton, that we invested a boat load in, jammed our most cherished belongings into, and thus – we carry it with us EVERYWHERE.
Partly because it's familiar. Partly because we don't know how not to.
It goes wherever we do.
To the store. The gym. Drop off at our kiddo’s school. Church. The movies. Date night. Social media. The baby shower we just got invited to.
But, here’s a question I find myself faced with this morning, that I’d also like to pose to you. What if we chose not to?
What if today we said - no more. Enough.
I'm sorry so-familiar, filled-up, Louis Vuitton bag, that I don’t know how to live without, I just don't want to carry you anymore. I don't want to do this anymore.
I want freedom more than I want what is familiar.
For me - I think that today, I am desperate enough to actually say and MEAN that. And to be honest, I don’t have the answer as to how this will actually, practically work. I don’t.
But I know the One who does. And that’s the place where I’ll start.
You can too.
Let’s ship that giant Louis to Timbuktu, shall we?
I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from my fears.