And then there are dreams that stay with you.
This was one of those.
At the time, I had learned that another sister in Christ—someone who was practically family—had been diagnosed with cancer. Around that same season, I had been studying the renewing of the mind gaining an understanding of how neuroplasticity works, and the connection between emotional wounds and physical health. Books like The Body Keeps the Score were helping me understand that God designed our minds and bodies with far more purpose than I had ever realized.
That night, after praying for her, I had a dream.
I found myself standing behind a pulpit in a small church. It wasn't grand. In fact, it looked like it could use some renovation. Maybe it seated a hundred or so people. The walls were plain. The atmosphere was humble.
I wasn't dressed in church clothes.
I was dressed like me.
And on my back was my army backpack—my bug-out bag.
What struck me most was that it almost felt like an out-of-body experience. I was watching myself while also being myself.
One by one, I began pulling items from the backpack.
Books.
Tools.
Resources.
Lessons.
Things I had picked up along my own journey.
As I held each one up, I shared what it had taught me and how it had helped me keep moving forward.
Then I woke up.
The dream felt so vivid that I considered sharing it with the young woman I had been praying for. Yet I didn't sense the Lord leading me to do that, so I simply tucked it away in my heart.
At least for a season.
Looking back now, I realize that dream marked the beginning of something.
It was the first time I understood the importance of carrying tools in my backpack.
Not physical tools.
Kingdom tools.
The things God teaches us while we're walking through our own wilderness.
The Word tells us to go (Matthew 28:19).
But often we don't know what that looks like.
I have come to believe it looks a lot like a journey.
God brings us out of Egypt.
He leads us through wilderness seasons.
And if we continue seeking first His Kingdom, He brings us into promises we could never have reached on our own.
Along the way, He teaches us things.
He heals wounds.
He exposes lies.
He reveals truth.
He hands us tools.
And those tools aren't meant to stay in our backpack forever.
They're meant to be shared.
As Paul wrote: "He comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God." (2 Corinthians 1:4)
When you encounter someone who is barely hanging on, you pull out what helped you.
When you meet someone facing a battle you've already walked through, you hand them a tool that strengthened your faith.
When you find a traveler discouraged in the wilderness, you remind them that God still knows the way.
Not everyone who left Egypt entered the Promised Land.
The difference wasn't God's faithfulness.
The difference was whether they continued believing Him.
The wilderness has a way of tempting us to quit.
To grumble.
To doubt.
To turn back.
But faith keeps walking.
Faith remembers.
Faith looks ahead.
Faith trusts that God is who He says He is.
So pack your backpack.
Fill it with every lesson He teaches you.
Fill it with every promise He fulfills.
Fill it with every testimony He gives you.
But be careful what else you carry.
"Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." (Hebrews 12:1)
Not everything belongs in the backpack. Some things were meant to be left behind.
And when you meet another traveler on the road, share what you've learned.
For a time, I misunderstood what this backpack was for.
If I'm being transparent, I started imagining ways I could profit from it.
After all, wilderness seasons are uncomfortable. When you're desperate for breakthrough, it's easy to start looking for your own way out.
I became frustrated watching people place price tags on every answer, every course, every solution, every piece of wisdom.
There always seemed to be one more payment standing between someone and the help they needed.
Somewhere along the way, the Lord gently corrected my heart.
If I wanted others to freely share what they had learned, then I needed to be willing to do the same.
The truth is, I don't ever want to be found outside His temple selling what He freely gave me.
I would rather give it away.
Trust Him.
And let Him decide how He wants to provide.
So this backpack is open.
Everything I learn, I intend to share.
If it helps one weary traveler keep walking, then it was worth carrying.
And if I never earn a single penny from any of it, I will still consider it a success.
Because treasures stored in heaven never rust.
So get your backpack ready.
Start packing.
The journey may be longer than you expected.
The wilderness may feel harder than you imagined.
But there will be fruit along the way.
There will be companions for the road.
And there will be abundance at the end.
Keep walking.
Companion Thought:
The tools in our backpacks are not trophies of survival,
they are the blueprints that guide others.
Pick up your cross and let's stride to Chronicle #10