suitcase.

I have spent the better part of this summer living out of a suitcase. Three weeks here, five days there, three more days over there, and six days back here. I think total, combined throughout the whole summer, I have spend six days at home. Six. Not to mention, those six days were spent in transition - unpacking from one excursion, doing laundry, cleaning, making trips to Target, and repacking to head to the next adventure. No relaxing has been on the agenda for this girl.

I've been busy lifting and carrying around the weight of a suitcase from place to place. From Chicago to Grayslake to cobblestones in Italy and back to Chicago to Minnesota and back to Grayslake only to bring it back to Minnesota and back to Grayslake one last time. Which is where I am now, for a few days anyway. I have one more looming experience with my suitcase this summer, and that's to pack it up and move back it to Chicago, where I will officially give it a stern talking to about being annoying.

There came a point in Italy - sometime in the middle of the trip - where I wanted to pack whatever I could in my purse and ditch my suitcase. The cobblestones, uphill battle and heavy lifting were killing me (but doing wonders for my calfs and biceps, believe it or not). I was so tired of hauling around this huge suitcase, full of stuff I needed (six pairs of shoes? absolutely) and a whole bunch of stuff I absolutely did not (oh hey, raincoat that I never used the whole trip).

But I continued to carry around the suitcase. Every few days, packing up and moving on - adding new treasures to my suitcase and not really willing to ever take anything out of it. The entire time I was in Italy my suitcase got heavier, and heavier, and heavier. I was adding new scarves, new clothes, wine corks, and an assortment of other treasures. Inevitably, this made for more weight and a tougher battle every time I approached a bump in the cobblestone (which was often). The last night of the trip, I frantically threw a bunch of stuff away, worried that my suitcase wasn't going to meet the weight requirement of our airline. I was carrying around so much unnecessary crap  - freebies from the hotels, papers from study abroad, a package of q-tips, three umbrellas (how, I'm not quite sure), shampoo and conditioner, and a host of other ridiculous things that were weighing down my baggage. When I finally threw that stuff away, my suitcase was much lighter.

Everyone has baggage. I don't remember the first time I heard this expression, but I've heard it a lot. Everyone has baggage. Don't we, though? I know I do. This summer, I've been carrying around my literal baggage, but there's other baggage that we carry around too. We carry around past regrets and bitterness and mistakes and resentment and anger and hurt feelings and so many other things that weigh down our hearts and our heads.

This has my brain going in two directions. First being, why wouldn't I do what I did in Italy to the baggage in my heart? Throw out the crap I don't need. And then, how do I make sure it's not going to creep back into my suitcase later on? Where do I find true healing for the things that are weighing down my suitcase? Where do I surrender that hurt, that bitterness, that anger, that shame, and ask for healing? Why wouldn't I entrust the deepest, heaviest, most horrible things from my past to My Savior, the Healer of all things? The Psalms are FULL of crying out to God in brokenness and Him healing iniquities, destruction, brokenness... He heals baggage.

Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony. My soul is in deep anguish. How long, Lord, how long? Turn, Lord, and deliver me, save me because of your unfailing love. [psalm 6:2-4]

The psalmist is in despair, weary and in anguish, calling out for someone to lighten his burdens. I get the vibe that this psalmist is at the end of his rope - reading to give up and let go and ditch the suitcase at any moment. How much longer, Lord, do I need to hang on? But in that despair, he's calling out to God as healer, seeking deliverance and safety in the Lord. Isn't this true with my own baggage? Maybe not to the extreme of the psalmist, but certainly there have been times where I just want to freaking let go of the suitcase, to stop bearing the weight of brokenness. How much longer, Lord, do I need to be carrying around this bitterness, this shame, this regret? How much longer until I can just let it go? Not only in this psalm, but in my own life, I'm tasting and seeing that GOD IS HEALER. I'm coming to learn that truly, God is the only one who can take my suitcase and eliminate the heavy weight that brings me down. And He not only carries our burdens, He picks us up and carries us, too. He walks right alongside us during every step of the healing process, gently and effortlessly carrying our burdens for us. Every single day. 

And after spending so much time with my actual suitcase this summer, I'm itching to ask myself, what am I carrying around in my imaginary suitcase? What am I still bringing with me from place to place, from experience to experience, from relationship to relationship? What can I get rid of? What needs to be refolded and tucked back inside? My marathon finish last year? Abso-freaking-lutely that's staying in my suitcase. Those 26.2 miles deserve to be carried around. The buried bitterness I have over old friendships? It's probably time for that to go. It's been too heavy for too long. There are a dozen other things that I carry around in my suitcase, some that I need and some that I absolutely do not. And I've spent so much time this summer bonding with my actual suitcase that maybe it's time to spend some time with my imaginary suitcase - refolding the things that are going to stay for awhile, surrendering the rest to Jesus, and beginning the road toward healing.