What do you carry?

I mean, really carry?

In polite conversation, with a stranger, I might say that I work and I cook. You might tell me about your job, or your chores. When I ask what you carry, though, this isn’t what I mean.

What heavy things linger from your past? Are there unseen burdens that tire you as you cycle through a normal day? Love brings joy, but it also brings pain. What do you carry?

I just read a book by a man who loved a little girl until she died, at age seven. As the end drew near, the little girl needed more and more care. She wanted the man to stay home. Care for her. He said he had to work. Had a job. She said, “Your job is carrying me.”

He thought about this a lot. He wrote about it:

The more you weakened, the more you needed me to transport you even across the room, the more I realized the wisdom of your words. Your job is carrying me…

What we carry defines who we are.

And the effort we make is our legacy.

I had to stop reading, for a while, after that bit.

I know what I carry. I wonder about you. What do you carry? What invisible things do you hold each day? I like those lines, because they acknowledge that there is more to you and me than meets the eye. We carry things that are heavy. We don’t have to. We could drop them. Leave them. But we don’t. We carry them.

And the effort we make – day in and day out – that is our legacy.

Don’t give up.

You aren’t alone, as you lift burdens that seem unusually hard. You are surrounded by others who also struggle. Let’s spur one another on. The effort we make is our legacy.