The Weight I Couldn’t Carry
For the past two decades, I’ve followed a meandering career path that combines graphic design, an interest in marketing, and software engineering. Early on, I was driven by two things: the absolute necessity of providing for my family, and the joy of discovery and creation. But a deeper motivation was pulling the strings: I desperately needed to prove my worth.
I remember being face-down in the mud of my schoolyard with serious injuries at seven years old, simply because my skin color was different. Episodes of physical and sexual abuse, combined with natural gifts that were out of sync with my family’s values, meant I would struggle to believe I was of any importance. My relatives were hardy, self-sufficient farmers and carpenters who delighted in physical labor, but my near total lack of manual dexterity and situational awareness meant that I would never join the family business. Whatever had caused my predicament, it was mine. That seven-year-old in the mud decided he’d prove his worth by being the smartest and best-paid guy in the room.
I probably never succeeded in my prestige-chasing game, but the more I played it, the more joy drained from my life. I had enough money that I didn’t have a reason to worry about necessities, but swinging my feet out of bed in the morning with a heavy weight on my shoulders was unbearable. How had I gotten to this point?
I’d never pursued success and money in an all-out chase. After all, Jesus says no one can serve both money and him, and I wanted to serve him. But despite my intentions to the contrary, my work was definitely my god. The weight on my shoulders and tightness in my chest proved it.
When I made mistakes, errors in judgment or lost respect, it felt as if my life had little value. Everything was on the line. My reason for existence was economic. I needed to win in the eyes of my family. I had to reassure myself of my value by pointing to achievements and saying with relief, “See! I really do matter.”
My pride set me above God as the one who would create and judge my value. He had already told me I was valuable, and my favorite biblical passage celebrates the worth of every human being simply because God has made them. But God’s reassurance wasn’t enough for me. The heaviness on my shoulders was a tipping point. I had to change.
One day I read a passage in the book of Revelation that helped me see the way forward.
And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.
— Revelation 12:11
The blood of the Lamb points to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ: he died in my place. But testimony, that is my unique task to perform. Today, not much visible in my life has changed, but inwardly everything is different. Rather than running from my past, I’m claiming it as my story to share. Writing this, I sit back in my chair and let the truth soak in slowly. My life is my testimony, and it has value (whether I share it or not), simply because it is a gift I’ve received from the One who says it is good.
