The Weight We Don’t Carry

When Lightening the Load Becomes a Deeper Invitation to Serve

I hope you don’t think less of me after this post.

Let me explain.

For the last decade and a half, I’ve gone on regular backpacking trips. And every time, I’ve packed everything I’d need for the week—clothing for unpredictable weather, cookware, water filtration, toiletries, and every single meal and snack. Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at minimizing pack weight. On my last true backpacking trip, my pack came in at around 24 pounds with water.

But.

Before my latest trip, I learned that one of the guys wouldn’t be hiking with us. Instead, he’d spend his days fishing and reading, then meet us at our end-of-day location. The idea was that we could leave our heavier gear in his van to lighten our load on the 15- to 17-mile-per-day hikes.

While I’d never had an arrangement quite like that, I wasn’t opposed to it. The idea of lightweight trekking sounded incredibly appealing.

Especially when our friend said he’d gladly cook meals for us.

Concierge backpacking.

Don’t judge.

I still smile thinking about it.

But seriously—his gift is food prep and cooking. He got genuinely excited about making breakfast and dinner for us. He never told us what was on the menu, but each day he’d drive into town and stock up on fresh supplies.

I’ve never eaten better on the trail—salmon, shish kabobs, roasted veggies, and a hot breakfast before setting out on a full-day hike in torrential rain. It was one of the kindest gestures I’ve ever experienced on a trip like this.

As I pushed through overgrowth and stepped over roots, I kept thinking…

What are we bringing to the table for others?

What talents or abilities do we have that could bless those around us?

And maybe even more importantly—are we willing to use those gifts quietly and without recognition, simply because we love and want to care for the people around us?

Because when I think back on this trip, I’ll certainly remember the beauty of the trail and the conversations along the way. But I’ll also remember the smell of campfire salmon and the quiet generosity of a friend who just wanted to serve.

That, to me, is sacred.

Question

What quiet gift do I have that I could offer others—simply out of love, without needing recognition?

Peace,

Brandon

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