Weights, and the haunting eye of that needle

“….let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance…”

Heb. 12:1

I read the text over and over that week, considering the familiar passage and asking God again and again for insight–What are my weights?

The pain in my neck provided the perfect illustration. Earlier that week we had wanted to head outside on a beautiful sunny day. Justice is nearly 30 lbs so he’s a beast to carry around, but we have a hefty backpack carrier that Jeff uses. I had never used it before, but figured I could handle it for a short hike. How heavy could it be? I slid it out of the closet, hefted Justice over the top and down into the harness, buckled him in, then squatted down and eased the straps over my shoulders, then stood up.

Good grief he’s heavy, I thought. I pulled the waist straps tighter, shifted to try to adjust the weight down instead of pulling painfully on my neck. It’ll be fine.

We hiked, up and down hills and the whole time I’m just thinking, Good grief this kid weighs a ton! We kept it short because I couldn’t endure much longer. By the end my neck burned, my head ached, and I was just relieved to be done. That night I told Jeff about our little excursion and told him how much I admired that he could handle carrying that heavyweight around all the time!

The next morning Jeff made a humorous discovery: He’d accidentally left his huge study Bible in the front compartment of the backpack carrier. After church he’d tucked it in there just to travel home, then forgotten it was there.

I rubbed my sore neck and shook my head–a little extra weight is no joke! It seems so little–just a book. A little extra here and there. But over the long haul of a hike it takes serious toll on your ability to endure! The truth is, I could have hiked a lot longer without that extra weight. And I’m sure there are lots of things that “weights” might be for us, but one I know for sure for me:

My preferences.

My preferences are weights, friends. All the things that I have to have, the things that I like to be just so. The demands, comforts, requirements that must be fulfilled in order to be happy.

Every time I add a “must have” item to my life, I add a weight.

I think of this anytime I’ve searched for a vacation house on VRBO or AirBnB. As you know, the more boxes you check as requirements, the narrower your options get.

I.e. the more preferences you have, the fewer options you have.

Every box I check drastically reduces my options. It actually limits me.

My preferences limit my freedom.

Now please hear me, I’m not saying checking boxes is evil. Just adding a baby to our mix has limited our options because there are occupancy limits, that’s certainly not a bad thing! Indeed there are options that aren’t good for us. We’re wise to opt out of those things. But when there are so many things that I have to have just so, and you know what?

They drastically reduce my options.

Sure, we who have the privilege of wealth (which we all do) can afford to make a lot of those preferences a reality, but the principle is still the same. Everything I have to have in order to be satisfied comes back to bite me because it limits my freedom. It goes back to the Wide Joy thing…Every requirement I place on life closes that gap a notch more, narrowing the slice of life where I’m actually content.

It’s such a strange thing–our freedom can enslave us. Because we can become so accustomed to things being just so that we aren’t free to run with endurance. Our carry-on bag is too big!

Please hear me too, this isn’t just pointing fingers at people with money. I know wealthy people who purposefully live well below their means, on purpose. They haven’t kept checking additional boxes with every new raise. I admire them so much.

And of course it’s not only about money. But I can’t help but think of that haunting eye of the needle. Right? Jesus pulls no punches when he’s talking to the rich young ruler and that ruler didn’t have the freedom to follow Jesus because he had too many boxes checked. Too many preferences. He had to have his stuff. This and that thing were too near and dear to him. When he figured in all the amenities he had to have, there were no eternal options left for him. And that’s when Jesus speaks those haunting words,

It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.

Matt 19:24, Mark 10:25, Luke 18:25

The disciples were “exceedingly astonished” at this, of course. They cried out the same thing I’d cry out, “Then who on earth can possibly be saved??” They clearly recognize how dire the situation is. And Jesus assures them that with God all things are possible.

And of course this isn’t a command for all people, that’s not the point. The point IS, if Jesus asks me to leave everything behind to follow Him, would I? And how do I know that unless I’m willing today to lay down my preferences? I’m fooling myself if I cling to my “have to have” list but still somehow think that I’d respond differently than that dear young ruler who walked away sad.

Right after he walked away the disciples point out that they have left everything. And Jesus assures them that nothing is lost. Everything they’ve left behind. All the boxes that they’ve UNCHECKED in order to follow Jesus, all those things will be added back to them.

We’re not given details, but Jesus is saying,

“Don’t worry. All that stuff you ‘lost’? It’ll be worth it.”

I’ll tell you straight up–that eye of the needle thing haunts me. Camels are big. Needle-eyes are small. Lord, please do the miraculous work of helping us first-world folks to love you more than anything. Please save us from the fate of the rich young ruler. Please help us lay aside weights so we can finish well. With man this is impossible but with You all things are possible.

Thanks for reading.