I laughed when I first saw this picture. Yet it's given me a lot to think about.
My first thought was, "Jesus, you'd have to be a train engineer pulling a long line of cars holding my baggage." But I don't think that's really true today. The main purpose of my being in Wallowa County is a spiritual retreat of sorts.
And "of sorts", I mean, at almost 60 years old, I'm taking time out to sort through my life by writing, trying to make sense of it all. What I'm recognizing at this point is that a lot of the baggage I've carried- baggage which influenced many, many of my choices- never was MY baggage.
They were the ill feelings and beliefs carried by others that welcomed an opportunity to dump them on me. And being a child with no filter to discern what was mine and what wasn't, I took them on.
Letting go of what isn't mine, and owning what is, gives me the freedom to hand my stuff over to Jesus of Nazareth.
When I do, it's like He says, "Okay, good. Now let's go."
"But, but... I want to explain this stuff."
"No, we're good. I know all about it anyway. Let's go."
"But, but... I need to go over what I need to be forgiven for."
"I already know about those things. You've already asked for forgiveness. It's a done deal, now let's go."
"Then why are we taking this stuff anyway? Why not just leave it here?"
"Because we may meet someone along the way who has matching luggage. We'll sit with her or him as their stories are unpacked. You'll be able to show what you carried for so long and tell them about your Baggage Handler. They may want to give their baggage to Me, too. It will all be good."
"But, but... where are we going?"
"With Me. That's all you need to know."
I'm the kind of person who needs a plan, an itinerary of the stops along the way. Wants to know our destination, then who we will meet and what will we do when we get there.
I'm not given this information with His offer, and have to trust that it is enough to just be with Him, following His lead, doing the next right thing.
I could continue arguing, but...
Oh, well. I'm in.
That's how this Wallowa Gal muddles around with her faith.
A 50-something woman comes home to a place she's never been before.