Let me carry that for you.

The problem with Gabby and I.

This week, my friends and I have been sifting through the details of the Gabby Petito case, the speculations, the emotions; a couple of us have been in emotionally abusive relationships, and it’s been jarring, to say the least. If you haven’t seen the news, the body of the 22-year-old woman was found in Wyoming earlier this month following a roller coaster of incidents involving her boyfriend, Brain Laundrie, and their cross-country road trip.

In mid-August, an onlooker dialed 911 after he saw Brian slap Gabby in public. The couple then got into their van and sped off. But officers stopped them, and the world got to watch the aftermath on video. In the body-cam footage, Brian is chatty and smiling while Gabby is sobbing. He is polite, affable even, placing his hand over his heart to thank the police, while Gabby is disheveled and scattered. The men share a chuckle about emotionally unstable women. Gabby sits in the back of squad car, unconsoled. Most disturbing, we hear Gabby blame herself. Over and over, she scrambles to find her sins like a busted string of pearls. Her words are frayed in her attempts to absolve her boyfriend, but they expose layers of embarrassment, confusion, and trauma.  

The red flags are ones many people wouldn’t notice. The police didn’t notice them. Probably, her parents didn’t notice them. Gabby herself likely didn’t see them, the blood-red flags, waving all the while. But many women have been talking about them.

What snagged my heart was Gabby’s excessive ownership of what was taking place, the effort to protect Brian, the compulsion to mitigate his consequences like it was her job.  

From my own experience, I’m sure it was. The conditions of her relationship were probably that she willingly carry the lion’s share of blame, for everything.

“Have you eaten from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat?” asked God. “It was the woman you gave to me who gave me the fruit,” replied Adam, in Genesis chapter three. The first Biblical example we see of blame-shifting is by a husband who expects his wife to take the fall for his bad choice. Adam tried to shove responsibility across the table to God and Eve in a heartbeat. Since that day, women have been agreeing to shoulder the weight of others’ failures for so many reasons.

It’s a natural progression. As mothers, wives, girlfriends, sisters, and daughters, we long to spare our loved ones discomfort. It’s the immediate clutching of someone’s bags to help them into the house; the reaching for a young mom’s infant; the rinsing of a friend’s dishes sitting on the counter.

The nurturing instinct runs so deep: we all say, “Let me carry it. I can bear it. You need relief. It’s easier for me.” Despite the gift we offer, we can lose ourselves within the spiral of relationships.

As a young wife, I thought it was godly to become a pack mule, unburdening my husband from whatever weighed him down. Over time, we had well-worn dynamics, including an expectation that I would lessen whatever load he struggled to bear. The heaviest were things I was not designed to carry – the fallout from childhood pain, for one – and yet I tried. God, I tried. This is how the bodies and hearts of women start to crack; hairline fissures become shattered souls over time. What’s crystal clear on the video is that Gabby was so fractured already.

It is the work of a lifetime to understand what is ours to bear. And what isn’t.

Last week, my son woke up late for school. We scrambled to get there, but he would walk in after the bell. On the way, not wanting the tardy mark, he asked, “Can you call in and excuse me?” I said, “There are times you’re late and it’s because of me. But this time was on you. I’m sorry, I won’t.” It was a small pain, one I’m sure I’ve alleviated in the past. But I’m learning to bear the weight of my own choices, my own mistakes, and those alone. It’s not like I don’t have enough as it is. If I’m consistent, I hope those small boundaries model healthy responsibility to my son.

I’m a firm believer that we should downplay neither our mistakes nor our glory. What we are designed to bear is the balanced union of humanity and glory, shadow and light, failures and beauty, but enough for one person only.

The Bible says to “bear one another’s burdens,” but it doesn’t mean until those burdens break us. It means we help bring those needs to Jesus and drop them off in his care. We are like emotional Uber drivers, delivering our loved ones into far more capable hands. Carry all the shopping bags and infants you want, but you have permission to gently release the weight of your partner’s identity crisis, your parents’ expectations, your sister’s instability, your child’s suffering. Perhaps prayer is the only container for such clumsy cargo.

God is surely trying to encourage our loved ones to surrender what’s heavy directly to him; we can try to arrange an introduction, tell them Love is near, but it might be best to simply live surrendered ourselves.

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download this.

I have to tell you about this app. I hope you already have it, but if you don’t, download it today. It’s called Lectio 365 and has TWO daily inspirational readings - one for morning and one for night - with a bit of Scripture and reflection in each one.

They take about 10 minutes to swipe through, and the format is easy on the eyes.

But here’s what I love, especially in the evenings when I’m tired: you can choose to have the app read it to you. And I’ve never once been annoyed at the voices (you know how some apps have annoying voices?). My most favorite is to listen to the evening episode right before bed, to center myself and move toward rest. The readings are simple, often relevant to today’s issues, meditative, and they quickly reorient my heart toward God’s. It’s totally free, and I’m not being sponsored to say this. I simply love this resource.

Here’s the link if you have an iPhone.

Here’s the link if you have an Android.

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make this.

This is my current favorite meatless dish and can be pulled together so quickly. The only thing you have to cook is the noodles, which takes about 6 minutes. It’s loosely adapted from a recipe by Alison Roman from her cookbook, Dining In, but since I do not live in NYC and thus do not have access to fancy ingredients, I have concocted a simpler, very fantastic version. It makes an excellent, inexpensive lunch or healthy dinner, and serves 3-ish adults as a meal.

Cold Soba Noodle Bowls

6-8 oz soba noodles

5 green onions, green and white parts sliced

½ C chopped cilantro

¼ C soy sauce

3 T sesame oil

2 T rice vinegar

Fresh spinach or baby kale

1 lime, juiced or cut into wedges

Suggested toppings:

Sliced cucumber

Bean sprouts

Chopped snow peas

Shredded carrots

Sliced jalapeno

Toasted sesame seeds

Boil noodles according to package directions. Strain, and then run under cold water, gently tossing with your hands until cool. Set aside, with a bit of sesame oil to prevent sticking.

Make dressing by combining soy sauce, oil, vinegar, green onion, and cilantro. Toss noodles with half the dressing. Place a handful of spinach or kale on one side of each bowl. Serve noodles onto other side. Top with any or all toppings in little piles in a circular fashion around the bowl and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Drizzle the whole glorious meal with more dressing and fresh squeezed lime juice. Add more soy sauce or sesame oil to taste.

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My friends, I wish you a lovely week. The leaves are changing. The temps are cooling. I’m about to dig out my sweater collection. If we could meet for tea, I’d give you a big, fuzzy hug and relish in all the tales you had to tell. This is what the kingdom of God is like. Warm and comforting and full of stories.

You are the beloved,

Leslie