Pour Your Burdens into the River

I said my last post was my final one on becoming, and it was, to a degree. But the truth is, I don’t think becoming ever really ends. I believe in discovering yourself, rediscovering yourself, and sometimes returning to the version of you that you abandoned because the world preferred a different one. Sometimes you’re not broken. Sometimes you don’t need to fix yourself. Sometimes the real work is asking whether the company you keep, friends, family, relationships, is quietly pulling pieces off you.

I struggle to write consistently. I ask myself why it matters, why my voice matters. But a friend reminded me this week that it does. WC, thanks for the reminder and the motivation, love ya.

I’ve always loved advertisements, the creativity, the storytelling, the way they sell not just products but identities. Life feels like that sometimes, one long ad campaign. People sell us stories about who they are, who we are, and who we should be. We buy into reputations, expectations, and standards that were never ours to begin with. And we’re not innocent in this either. We place standards on others and on ourselves. It’s human.

We admire people for what they have or who they are, and then almost instantly, we judge them for it. How dare they be happy and show it. And then we turn that judgment inward. How dare I not have what they have. That sneaky thought of why am I not enough creeps in, and suddenly we’re carrying a weight “of a want” that was never ours in the first place.

In relationships, we sometimes allow our partners to project their insecurities onto us. Women especially, we’re wired to be the soft landing, the emotional cushion. But sometimes that softness becomes the place where someone else drops their weaknesses and walks away lighter while we walk away heavier. Suddenly you’re not the soft landing; you’re the problem they carry.

And maybe that’s the hardest part — you become “the problem” not because you are one, but because you’ve been absorbing their storms for so long that exhaustion, irritability, and walking on eggshells start shaping you into someone you don’t recognize. You react to the weight you’re carrying, and they point to your reactions as proof that you’re the issue. But the issue was never yours to begin with, and they grow unhappy with you because you’re becoming a reflection of them. They cannot stand who they are, so when you absorb their weakness, they cannot stand seeing their own reflection in you.

Sometimes you have to stay, for family, for children, for circumstances. But staying doesn’t have to mean losing yourself. Staying doesn’t have to mean teaching your children that unhappiness is normal. Staying doesn’t have to mean sacrificing your authenticity. Because staying in a place where you can’t be yourself will take things from you. And it will add things you’ll have to heal from later.

And I have to pause here, because I often hear people say that divorce is a sin, that God wants us to stay married. There is truth in the idea that marriage is sacred, but God also calls us to choose partners who are equal in spirit, character, and heart. As humans, we forget that part. We marry because we are “in love,” even when the person we choose is not the partner God intended for us. We are human, and humans are imperfect listeners.

And if being human means we will make mistakes, then using the idea of sin as a crutch to justify staying in unhappiness doesn’t align with God who also calls us to live in truth, peace, and emotional safety. Scripture reminds us of this again and again. “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” (Proverbs 4:23). And not just in the context of marriage but also in life, “God has called us to live in peace” (1 Corinthians 7:15). Peace is not passive. Peace is not suffering. Peace is not staying in places that break your spirit. Peace is something God asks us to pursue, protect, and prioritize.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the Morton Salt Girl. Her tagline was “When it rains, it pours.” The ad was meant to show that the salt wouldn’t clump, even in damp weather. But when I look at her now, this little girl in rain boots, holding an umbrella, carrying a container of salt, I see something different.

I see how many of us carry the burdens of others. I see how many of us stay dry so someone else doesn’t get wet. I see how many of us hold the umbrella for everyone but ourselves.

And here’s the thing, Some people stay un-clumped because you’re absorbing the storm for them. They remain unphased, untouched, unchanged, because you’re the one taking the impact.

But you can put the umbrella down. You should put the umbrella down. You deserve to put the umbrella down.

Becoming isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about reclaiming yourself. It’s about noticing when you’re carrying storms that don’t belong to you and choosing to put down the umbrella of protection and step out into the rain. Dance in it. Feel it. Let it wash off everything that was never yours to carry. And remember, Scripture tells us plainly to “seek peace and pursue it” (Psalm 34:14). Peace is something you chase, something you choose, something you step toward even in the storm of life.

When you choose yourself, you teach your children, your friends, your future self that staying unhappy is not the standard. Dance in the storm, dance through the storm, but do not hold the umbrella. Protecting everyone else at the cost of yourself is not holy. God asks you to guard your heart, because “everything you do flows from it” (Proverbs 4:23). A guarded heart is not a selfish heart. It is a wise one.

And when you feel your spirit being crushed under the weight of someone else’s storms, remember this too, “A crushed spirit dries up the bones” (Proverbs 17:22). God does not call you to live dried up, depleted, or drained. He calls you to life, to joy, to peace, to emotional safety.

So put the umbrella down. Step into the rain. Let it baptize you. Let it wash away what was never yours to carry.

But anyway,

Cara

Ephesians 4:24, "and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness."