There are some things we carry around that are way too heavy. They weigh down our spirits. They crush our hearts. They dampen our joy. They are heavy — way too heavy to carry.

Heartache. Sorrow. Stress. Rejection. Illness. Loneliness. Loss.

There are some things we carry around that are way too heavy. They weigh down our spirits. They crush our hearts. They dampen our joy. They are heavy — way too heavy to carry.

Heartache. Sorrow. Stress. Rejection. Illness. Loneliness. Loss.
If you came into my bedroom and opened my closet door, the first things you would see (if you ignored the dirty clothes on the floor) would be the red Coach bag my sister-in-law gave me for my fortieth birthday alongside the backpack my friend, Karen, brought me from her trip to Paris. I love these bags – they are the nicest ones I own since I usually buy cheapies! (I can’t spend too much on a bag because I buy way too many — they always fit!)

Not only are they lovely bags, they mean a lot to me because of who gave them to me. Every time I open the door of the closet, my treasured bags are right there.
Last November was an election like no other! The voters’ voices were heard, the protesters concerns were noted and now, the ballots are counted, the Electors have voted and… ta-da! (or uh-oh) Inauguration Day is almost here!

Now, if the election went your way, well, all that is just groovy! But, if you didn’t want Trump to be the president, well then Inauguration Day may flat-out depress you.
You skip breakfast. You’re late for work. You forgot to pack little Joey’s lunch. Your laundry basket is a Mt. Everest of dirty clothes. Your Dad is in the hospital. You can’t seem to get the groceries bought. You still haven’t returned that growing list of phone calls and text messages. Your mother needs you. Your friend needs you. Your husband needs you. Your kids need you. Your boss needs you… you need to be cloned or counseled or consoled or caught up in the air to meet the Lord!

“Rapture me Lord!”
You feel stressed. You feel guilty. You feel… overwhelmed!
As a third grader, our class project was to grow grass in milk cartons. I remember starting the project by cutting the tent-like top off the small milk carton so all that remained was a little box shaped planter. Then, I filled it with a bit of dirt, some seeds, some more dirt and a little water. The teacher then let each of us take home our small waxy paper planters and told us to sit them in a sunny place and water them every day so they would grow.

We had to write down everything we did to tend to our little sprouts in a journal and at the end of the month; we were all to bring back the grassy evidence of our hard work! I remember placing my little stump of a flower pot in the window sill in my bedroom. Like the budding Type A that I was, I checked it constantly and watered it when it felt the least bit dry. Tiny sprouts appeared and I recorded it in my “Growth Journal.” It was really growing! By the end of the month, I had a luxurious tuft of green that any golf course in America would covet!
After showing my teacher, I was allowed to bring it back home and keep it. I was so proud of my success and determined I would continue to tend to it so back to its window perch it went. I trimmed, watered, tended, watered, missed a few days, forgot, remembered and then ignored it and eventually…I had some dusty hay in a cut off milk carton! So much for my Type A tendencies — they hadn’t matured yet!