Living the Dash

I don’t know who lied to me, but somewhere along the way, I became convinced cast iron wasn’t that heavy. Maybe when I was younger, it wasn’t. Maybe my muscles were stronger. Or maybe I was just too stubborn to admit it.

And if you’ve ever owned cast iron, you know there’s a whole list of rules. Don’t soak it. Don’t put it in the dishwasher. Dry it immediately. Oil it. Season it. Pass it down to your grandchildren. I’m pretty sure it’s easier to get a driver’s license than it is to properly care for cast iron.

These days? I pick up the twelve-inch skillet, and suddenly I’m questioning every life decision that led me to that moment.

“Do I really need cornbread that bad?”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love cast iron.
There’s just something about it. Cornbread gets those crispy edges. Fried potatoes somehow taste like Grandma made them, even when you know good and well they don’t look anything like hers. Bacon behaves better. Everything just tastes… better.

The only downside is that somewhere between my twenties and now, that skillet got a whole lot heavier.
Or at least it felt like it did.
The funny thing is, it hadn’t changed one bit… I had.

I started thinking about that the other day, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn’t just the skillet. Life has a way of adding weight that we don’t even notice. Not the kind you see on a scale, the kind you carry around in your heart.

It’s the weight of losing people you love. The weight of checking the bank account one more time. The weight of trying to make the right decision when everyone seems to have an opinion. The weight of being the one everyone calls when they need something. The weight of worrying about your children… even when they’re grown. The weight of trying to keep all the balls in the air, praying none of them come crashing down at once.

Most of the time, we don’t even realize how much we’re carrying until something as simple as a cast iron skillet reminds us.

Maybe that’s why I reach for the lightweight skillet more often these days. It’s easier. It’s convenient. And if I’m being honest, there are days when “easy” wins.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with making life a little easier where we can. Lord knows paper plates have saved my sanity on more than one occasion. But every now and then…
I want to pull out that old cast iron skillet anyway.
Not because it’s light.
Because it’s worth it.

This all got me to wonderin’ how many things in life are like that.
Marriage can be heavy.
Serving others can be heavy.
Forgiveness can be heavy.
Grief can be heavy.
Even doing the right thing can be heavy.

Sometimes we spend so much time asking God to make our load lighter that we forget to ask Him to help us carry it. Then I remembered Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11:28:

“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

I love that verse because Jesus didn’t say we’d never have heavy days. He said we’d never have to carry them alone.

So maybe the cast iron didn’t get heavier after all.
Maybe life did.
Maybe I did.
Maybe the years have a way of adding things to our hearts that our younger selves never imagined carrying.

But I’ve also learned something else over the years. God has never once asked me to carry those burdens by myself. So I’ll probably keep reaching for the lighter skillet most days… but every once in a while, I’ll pull out the old cast iron. I’ll make the cornbread. I’ll smile when I realize it still weighs a ton. And I’ll thank God that while some things in life are worth carrying… the heaviest burdens were never meant to be carried alone.

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If today’s story encouraged you, you’ll find more faith-filled stories, Southern charm, and everyday reminders of God’s grace in Sweet Tea Confessions: Devotions for the Hot Mess Who Loves Jesus Anyway.

Until next time… keep living the dash, keep the sweet tea cold, and keep your eyes on Jesus.