The gift of being a burden

 A few days ago, I gave birth to my second child, who I carried in my body for nine long months. The bigger she got, the more of a burden she became (mostly on my hips!). Now that she’s out in the world, she’ll continue to be a burden to many areas of my life for decades to come: physically, mentally, financially, emotionally, spiritually… etc.

Yesterday my precious newborn had a bit of a health scare and we rushed her to the ER. Fortunately, she was perfectly fine, but for awhile I was hysterical and terrified that she was not. In the big unknown of what was going on with her (was she deathly ill or were her unusual symptoms completely innocuous?), the question couldn’t help but slip into my mind: what if I have to live my life without my daughter? That possibility filled me with panic and dread. I instinctively knew that her death would devastate me to the point where my life would be turned completely upside-down. And I thought, how strange is that, that someone I just met and who has caused me so much physical pain, can have such a tremendous impact on me? She is absolutely a burden and yet undeniably and unswervingly worth it to me. 

So today when I saw a social media post meant to inspire the reader about how “you’re not a burden!,” I actually found it grating. I’m a burden. You’re a burden. We’re all burdens to the people in our lives and the planet we live in. But our souls are so precious that we’re worth it all. Worth so much that the king of the universe would lay down his life for us. What a burden! What a sacrifice! But he made that choice and he’d make it again because We. Are. Worth it. 

Put another way, I found my backpacking trip (now nearly ten years ago!) to be one of the most difficult and rewarding experiences of my life. I didn’t have the resources or knowledge to make my pack ultra-lite as many backpackers try to do, so my pack was fairly heavy. In it was food, clothes, toilet paper, tent components (the various components were split among members of my group), and my sleeping bag. It was a literal burden I carried on my back for many miles. But I absolutely wouldn’t have discarded any of those items because they were absolutely worth having for both my comfort and survival.  

I feel as a mental health counselor, I shouldn’t be telling people that they are burdens. It feels like that would be a damaging thing to say. But for those who feel like a burden, slapping false positivity on them and denying what they inherently know to be true just isn’t helpful. What is more helpful and honest would be to say, “yes, you are. But you’re a burden worth carrying. “

SDG.