I never liked gym class. Not because I hated running (even though I kinda did), but because of my backpack. It was huge. And I mean, Mount Everest huge. Every day I carried it through school like some kind of hunchbacked turtle—books, binders, snacks, an emergency hoodie, even a full-size water bottle that could’ve hydrated a small village.
People noticed.
“Why do you carry all that?” someone would ask.
“I like to be prepared,” I’d joke. But it wasn’t really funny.
The truth?
It wasn’t just school stuff in there.
That Thursday, I was having one of those days. I bombed a math quiz, got into a silent war with my best friend over who ignored who first, and accidentally left my lunch on the kitchen counter. Again.
As I plopped my backpack down in the hallway and sat next to it, someone sat beside me. It was Mr. Hatcher, our guidance counselor. No clipboard. No lectures. Just him, sitting.
He pointed at my backpack and said, “Looks heavy.”
I nodded. “It is.”
“Want to show me what’s in it?” he asked, smiling.
I laughed. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
But something made me unzip it.
We went through it together. A math book. A notebook full of crossed-out doodles. A broken pencil case. A crumpled note from my mom. And then—
I started crying.
Not because of the stuff.
But because of the other stuff.
The invisible stuff.
The pressure to be liked.
The guilt of being fake nice to someone I didn’t really forgive.
The fear that I’d never be “good enough” for… anything.
Mr. Hatcher didn’t try to fix it. He just said, “You know, Jesus never said we had to carry all this alone.”
He pulled a Bible from his bag and flipped to this verse:
“Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you.” – Psalm 55:22
I’d heard that verse before, but never really felt it. Until that moment.
The next day, my backpack still looked full. But I was lighter.
Because that night, I gave God everything I’d been stuffing inside for months.
The fear. The fake. The shame.
I told Him, “Here. You carry it. I can’t anymore.”
And somehow… He did.
Moral of the Story:
You might carry a backpack to school, but you don’t have to carry everything on your own. God’s shoulders are bigger than yours—and He’s already waiting to help lighten the load.
14 thoughts on “The Backpack: Sometimes the heaviest things we carry aren’t even ours.”
This is a great story! You should definitely write more!
Aw thanks Emmi!! You just made my day 🙂 I’ll write more for sure!
Beautiful writing! I feel like I can very much relate to your experience in this story, as being a perfectionist involved in so many things and always feeling the social and internal pressure to do well, I’ve had a similar realization. Your “Moral of the story” was a great way to bring the lesson home. Thank you for this story!
Thank you, Miya! I truly appreciate you sharing this. I know how hard it is to carry so much and still feel the pressure. I’m grateful the story resonated with you—you’re definitely not alone.
I feel the exact same way. 🥲
I truly feel you… carrying that weight is so hard 🥲❤️ Remember, God is always there to help carry it with you. You’re never alone.
Wow. Amen. What a great story! The writing is good, and I like that you added a verse and a “moral of the story”. Good job and keep writing!
Thank you!! I’m really glad the story and message spoke to you. I’ll keep sharing more! 🙏❤️
I loved this story, I really needed to read it today. And your other stories touched my heart as well, I needed them all. You are a great writer. Keep it up! Thank you for sharing your experiences 😄
I actually just told Him something similar last night, I said “I can’t control things anymore, I give up” so very relatable 🙏
Hearing this truly touches my heart. I’m grateful my stories could offer you some comfort. I’ll keep pouring my heart into every word. 💖
I’m really moved by your words ❤️ It’s wonderful to know my stories connected with you. I’ll keep sharing what’s real and true.
Please do! 💖
I definitely will!!💛 I submitted some stories before, but they haven’t come out yet… 🤞 I hope they do soon!