What's In Your Bucket?
Unfortunately, to be human in a flawed world requires carrying a proverbial bucket overflowing with heavy emotions. The good news is, Jesus longs to help.
A few years ago, my wife and I decided to participate in a series of Spartan Races for "fun." I'm not exactly sure how we came to the conclusion that pushing ourselves to the brink of physical, emotional, and spiritual death could be classified as "fun," but somehow, we found enjoyment in it for a season.
If you're unfamiliar with Spartan Races, they essentially involve a trail running obstacle course. The course can range from a 3, 6, 13, to a grueling 30-mile run, interspersed with a variety of challenging physical obstacles. As you navigate through the course, you encounter barriers such as monkey bars, barbed wire crawls, fire jumps, rope climbs, spear throws (yes, actual spear throws), and cargo net climbs.
Failing to complete an obstacle as prescribed results in a penalty of 30 burpees. And, believe it or not, you willingly pay to subject yourself to this unique form of challenge.
As you can probably imagine, most of the obstacles in these races are incredibly challenging. One of my least favorites was the bucket carry. Approaching this obstacle, you grab a 5-gallon bucket, walk over to a pile of rocks, fill the bucket with these rocks, and then lug it up the side of a mountain before descending. It might not sound too daunting, but the average weight of the filled bucket ranges from 60 to 75 lbs, and it becomes overwhelmingly heavy in no time.
Aside from the sheer weight, what made this obstacle particularly disheartening was witnessing how effortlessly my wife conquered it. She never slowed down, didn't drop the bucket, and seemed to navigate it with ease. Unfortunately, my experience was quite the opposite. My lower back began screaming within seconds, I set the bucket down more times than I could keep track of, and I genuinely despised every second of the challenge.
It.
Was.
Brutal.
We all carry a load.
When I think about my emotional experience and yours, I think about those buckets. In life, we all bear an emotional load, a weight that we carry daily. These emotions can feel so overwhelming at times that there's a genuine fear they might crush us. The trio of heavy emotions that tend to surface most frequently are anger, sadness, and fear.
Anger rears its head whenever we perceive an injustice of any kind. It's a reaction to the discord between what we believe is fair and what we observe.
Sadness takes hold when we experience losses of varying magnitudes. It's the emotion that accompanies the void left by something or someone we cherished.
Fear creeps in when we find ourselves unable to control our comfort or security in some aspect of our lives. It's the unsettling feeling that arises when we confront uncertainty.
Much like lugging those buckets up the side of a mountain, we navigate through life grappling with these emotions, each step a struggle against their weight.
One of the factors intensifying the weight of these emotions is how frequently we feel them. It's rare for a day to pass without us shouldering at least one, if not all three, of these burdensome emotions to some degree.
So the bad news is, to be human in a flawed world requires carrying a proverbial bucket overflowing with these heavy emotions. The good news is, Jesus longs to help.
God desires to help.
One of the most encouraging invitations from Jesus comes to us from Matthew 11:28. Jesus said…
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Jesus longs to help bear our every burden. Take a moment to contemplate this: imagine Jesus looking upon the weight you currently carry. Picture the compassion and love radiating from His eyes towards you. Hear His gentle words saying, "I understand how heavy that feels. If you allow me, I'd be honored to help you shoulder it. You don't have to carry this alone."
Sadly, many of us tend to shoulder our emotional burdens in silent isolation. The invitation of support and relief is extended, yet we often hesitate to accept it, attempting to carry our bucket alone.
Hide. Deny. Distract.
Our inclination to make this mistake often manifests in one of three ways:
Firstly, there's the tendency to hide. Despite being acutely aware of the weight we carry and how burdensome it feels, feelings of shame, pride, or other counterproductive reasons prevent us from inviting Jesus to lend a helping hand.
Secondly, there's the inclination to deny. Some choose not to hide but instead refuse to acknowledge the sheer heaviness of life. This response is common among Christians conditioned to believe that, because God is always good, life should always feel good. However, life doesn't always align with this expectation. Admitting the pain of life doesn't negate God's goodness; it simply acknowledges the reality of the human experience.
Lastly, there's the strategy of distraction. Many of us have become adept at distracting ourselves. Whether through endless scrolling on our phones, overworking, binge-watching shows, avoiding silence, or indulging in excessive eating and drinking, we engage in these behaviors to divert our attention from the discomfort of what we know lurks within us.
But there is another option.
Pouring It Out.
Instead of resorting to hiding, denying, or distracting ourselves, we have the option to approach Jesus and discover rest. The most practical way to accept this invitation is by pouring out our pain to Him instead of keeping it bottled up. Few practices better position us for this response than journaling. Consider how many Psalms read like candid journal entries:
“Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak; heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking; my whole being is shaken with terror.” — Psalms 6:2-3
“Lord, why do you stand so far away? Why do you hide in times of trouble?” — Psalms 10:1
“I am bent over and brought very low; all day long I go around in mourning. For my insides are full of burning pain,and there is no soundness in my body. I am faint and severely crushed; I groan because of the anguish of my heart.” — Psalms 38:6-8
“Out of the depths I call to you, Lord! Lord, listen to my voice; let your ears be attentive to my cry for help.” — Psalms 130:1-2
These aren't polished, insincere prayers. They are raw, honest, and gritty expressions. They openly confront the pain and discomfort inherent in life in this world, setting an example for us to do the same.
So, here's my invitation to you:
Will you come to Jesus and extend an invitation for Him to assist in carrying whatever burdens you're shouldering?
EXPERIENTIAL
Grab a journal and, after a few minutes of quieting yourself before the Spirit of God, I invite you to envision Jesus looking into your eyes and posing this question:
"What is causing you unrest?"
I consider "unrest" to be the broadest term encompassing the challenging and burdensome aspects of life that Jesus desires to help bear. If His invitation is to find rest, then unrest encompasses any experience that contradicts what He invites us to. Reflect on where you might be carrying the "big three."
Are you feeling sad?
Are you grappling with anger?
Do you find yourself anxious or afraid about something?
Perhaps you're feeling a bit disoriented or confused. Maybe weariness and exhaustion weigh heavily on you, or you're wrestling with doubt. One of the beautiful aspects of Jesus is that He welcomes us to bring whatever we're carrying. He doesn't just welcome the easy parts; He also desires the hard ones.
Conduct an honest assessment of what's in your emotional bucket each day and then take a few minutes to write your response to Him.
The idea that Jesus wants to lift heavy burdens with COMPASSION is just a mind blowing image. ♥️