Bigger Than My Baggage

My work used to take me around the country, so two or three times a week I would find myself standing with my fellow travelers around a baggage carousel. Baggage is interesting. It rolls by in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and I suppose in some way each piece says something about its owner. Yet, most airport carousels post a sign urging travelers to check the baggage name tag because “many bags look alike.” More than once, I have started to pick up a bag, only to find it belonged to someone else.

Though there are many similarities, baggage seems to be highly personal. I’ve never observed anyone who would be content to leave with another person’s bag. Everyone seems intent on reconnecting with their own possessions. Even if it gets heavy, if we’re going to carry anything, we want it be our own---that with which we are familiar.

It’s no wonder that “baggage” has become a metaphor for the history, issues, problems, and consequences we accumulate along life’s travels. Sometimes these encumbrances get heavy, but we are hard-pressed to part with them, and after all, they are uniquely our own.

I believe Moses was reflecting on his “baggage” when God met him on the backside of nowhere and informed him that he was to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. His first objection to God’s call was, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh…?” I imagine that Moses’ elaboration on this point, certainly in his own mind, and perhaps in an extended conversation with God, went something like this:

“God, you don’t understand. I’m a has-been in Egypt. When I left there (you may recall, I ran), I was a wanted man! And those Israelites---I tried to help them before. Now I know I probably didn’t go about it the right way---killing a man and so forth, but they didn’t respond well to my leadership. Another thing, I know I had lots of potential but things haven’t turned out so good for me. You see those sheep over there, they aren’t even mine! I’ve been shepherding my father-in-law Jethro’s sheep for forty years. I really am a nobody. For such a monumental task, why would you pick a loser like me?”

God’s response to Moses’ objection is brief and to the point: “Well Moses, since I will be with you, none of that really matters.” I believe God was saying, “Moses, I’m bigger than your baggage!”

The circumstances of life (I’m sure God is in those) occasionally call us to our own monumental task. When we compare the task with our baggage (“Who am I?”), it seems there is no way to bear the burden of both. It is in those moments, however, we can rediscover that who we are is not nearly so important as Who is with us.

Lord, thank You for being bigger than my baggage!