Several years ago, I was asked to give a talk about the people God places in our lives to carry us through difficult seasons. While going through old writings recently, I came across these remarks and was reminded of just how much our journeys are shaped by the people who love us, support us, and refuse to let us walk alone. As I reread it, I realized the message is just as relevant today as it was when I first shared it.

“Some men came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them.” Mark 2:3

Carried by four of them…… Can you imagine? He’s paralyzed, so you know he’s dead weight, and four friends care so much about him that they literally carry him and then lower him through the roof to Jesus so he can be healed. Wow!  And yet in life there are so many special people whom God puts in our lives to be “carriers.” Hats off to all of them—the people who carry us, people who love us so much that they will show such incredible strength to carry us when we need them the most.

All of us have been “carried” at one time or another. Think of the special people in your life who have been there to help carry you throughout your journey. God gives us these people because it is through them that we come to know our Father in Heaven and His unconditional love.  In Isaiah it says, “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” It is because of that promise that He puts people in our lives to help carry us through.

“Before we ever learn to stand on our own, God gives us someone to carry us.” 💛

My carrier was there from the moment that God put a beat into my heart.  I was her sixth child and looking back I know it had to be tough to have 5 children and then carry me for 9 months.  And of course you know I didn’t make it any easier on her, I was her fattest baby up to that point coming in at 9 pounds and not only that, I came in on New Years Day at 1:30 am.  So you know she had to be out on the road with all the partyers going home and risking her life to bring me into this world.  She told me in my senior retreat letter how on that night, the doors to the cars were frozen and the roads were slick.  You know, I had to really “test” how much she loved me.  We do that, don’t we?  We gotta test our carriers to know if we can trust them?  Are you going to be there?  We might even say “omg go away” or in this case cry every 3 hours all night long but true carriers don’t falter.  Real carriers in our lives won’t buckle, they stand strong.  We soon learn we can trust them, we believe in them.

At about the age of 3, my Mom and I started to live our best lives.  I would wake up and she’d see all the other kids off to school and then awwww…..it was all about me. We had this thing where I watched Sesame Street and pretended it was my “school” and she would pack me a snack for my pretend lunchtime at “school” and in the middle of the show I would get up and have my snack.  We laughed, we played, we napped. I looked forward to it every single day.  Then, one day my Mom became the biggest traitor of all time. Though I threw the biggest fit, she stood her ground and this thing called “school” became a real part of my life.  

It was at this time that “play” school became “real” school.  She did all the motherly things you do when a child is going to start school.  She hyped it, telling me about friends and recess.  I thought it sounded okay, though I wasn’t quite certain.  And then the day came and she put me on the school bus with my brothers and sisters.  The bus was loud and there were lots of strange people and the bus driver yelled back “find a seat” and I lost it.  I kicked, I screamed and cried and the school called her and over the phone she said, “It will be okay, go on back to class, you’re going to be fine.”  It didn’t take days or weeks but months for her to patiently keep telling me that it was going to be ok and that she was going to be there when I got off of the bus.  And she never subsided.  Though she had lost some trust with me, she began to earn some back every time she was there  after school, every time she showed up for a field trip or my school plays. Though it was different than when I was a preschooler my Mom and I were back to living our best life again.

 It was great.  I would get an A on my report card and of course she bragged that I was the best reader in the world.  I made her a Mother’s day card and she cried at how beautiful it was.  Things were going along great.  My mom and I were besties.  Then middle and high school years came around and we hit a brick wall.  It was now time for my Mom to pull back and let go of me a little again. I had friends, we had sleepovers. I began to drive and now it was my turn to be the one to tell my Mom it was ok, everything would be fine. Remember how the school called her when I was crying?  Now it was HER calling me to see if I made it to where I was going and if I was ok. It  seemed to me that now the roles were reversed.  I was telling my mom it was going to be ok and reassuring her. Though, I wasn’t quite as patient  “Mom I am fine.  Mom, omg…. Geez, you’re annoying.”   However, it’s little wonder with parents hearing everyday of a teenager getting killed on the road or of a teen getting hooked on drugs and struggling.  All of that is hard for a parent to hear and to slowly let your child go, but as a teenager I could never fully understand this.  That came some years later.  

I will never forget the day the doctor said, “Your pregnancy test came back positive.”  Oh wow, I was beyond happy……nervous, but happy……frightened, but happy.  And after months of many many doctor visits, lab tests, morning sickness, gaining weight (lots of weight), I went to the hospital to have my baby.  And after a long grueling day of pains and aches and excitement, my first child entered the world.  I looked at her and she was beautiful and that my friends was it….. a beautiful moment …… and then the pressure was on!!  You know what the hospital and doctors said after that?  All the ways, I might hurt my newborn child.  Make sure you support her neck when you are holding her.  Make sure you do not give her ibuprofen only Tylenol, because ibuprofen has aspirin and that can cause Reyes syndrome.  Reyes syndrome?  I have never even heard of that……oh gosh what else haven’t I heard of?  Then it was never ever ever to lay your baby on their stomach to sleep, that can cause SIDS.  Ok, ummmm…..what is SIDS?  I’ll tell you what they didn’t say, “trust me you can’t hurt this little human, they’re indestructible”.  Oh no, quite the opposite, there was a barrage of information of factual…..hear me out on that, it’s not just “mom worrying”……factual things you could possibly do to hurt your child.  And that my friends becomes the norm as you enter the wonderful path of parenthood.  For no one wants to hear their child is hurt and I know that all too well.  I will never forget the day in 1996 when I heard the words, “I am sorry but your baby died.”  He was my fourth child and we named him Dean after my Dad as that was the name we had planned.  Dean is always a gentle reminder to me that life is fragile.  All these things are hard to understand until you experience being a parent yourself, it’s like someone telling you what a roller coaster is like before you go on it.  No one can prepare you for the fears, the unconditional love, the triumphs, the setbacks, the sacrifices, the hurt……it’s all part of the beautiful journey of carrying a child.  And still through all of this my Mom was there guiding and helping me to navigate motherhood.

At 20 years old I sat and wrote a letter to my Mom.  It was a letter of gratitude and appreciation for all that she had done for me.  I had completely forgotten all about this letter.  In 2015 my Mom died and my Dad said he knew what he wanted read at the funeral.  I said “what?”  He said he found the letter I had written to my Mom.  Kinda funny but she always taught me growing up to put any special things into my underwear drawer so I didn’t lose it.  That is where my Dad found my letter when she died and it made me so thankful I had taken the time to write that letter as she held on to it as special. 

Now some of you might be sitting there and you might have some misgivings or be uncomfortable because your story isn’t the same.  Maybe your Mom isn’t your carrier.  However, because God knows people aren’t perfect, and that includes Moms, he gives everyone a carrier.  I have had that experience of being a carrier and I can reassure you that their love for you is nothing less. 

I have three beautiful children that I didn’t birth and several other children from my journey of life who think of me as their second Mom or carrier. I love them with just as much love. I would not turn them away if they needed me, nor do I worry about them any less. I hold them near and dear to my heart.  It’s like I tell my three adopted children, “Just know that if you feel you are different, it’s only you that feels that way, and that’s okay, but to me you are not any different.”  Allow yourself to be loved by others always; they are God’s gift to us. I love each and every one of you.

As I read these words years later, I am reminded that the theme of this blog has always been the same: family is not simply about biology. It is about the people God places in our lives to love us, guide us, challenge us, forgive us, and carry us when we cannot carry ourselves. Blended families, adoptive families, foster families, stepfamilies, and even friendships often teach us this lesson in powerful ways. We all need carriers, and if we are fortunate, we also get opportunities to become carriers for others. My hope is that the stories shared here help someone recognize the people who have carried them, appreciate the love that surrounds them, and perhaps find the courage to carry someone else along the way.

From my loving heart to yours 💛

Kari