DELIVER ME
Some things don’t show up in boxes.
DELIVER ME
Some things don’t show up in boxes.
He stood there longer than he needed to…
looking at what he had to sort through before he could get to what mattered.
It didn’t look like much at first.
Just another truck. Another stop.
Until I kept watching.
I was sitting out front, phone in hand. The moment I saw it, I knew I had a shot — and something was already stirring inside me before I could explain why.
DEDICATION
To the Holy Spirit — for giving me opportunities to see what matters and what grows me.
To Marty — for living life out loud with me and always encouraging me forward.
To the reader — who may walk away with something to think about.
To the driver — who never knew his tired truck became a mirror.
SCRIPTURE
“Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” — Psalm 139:23–24 (NKJV)
THE HOOK
I was sitting out front when the truck pulled up.
White. Worn.
Budget printed across the side like it had somewhere important to be.
It parked.
The engine cut.
And for a minute… nothing moved.
THE STORY
Then the driver stepped out.
He didn’t rush. Didn’t grab anything right away.
Just stood there… looking at the back of that truck.
Like he already knew.
When he opened it, things didn’t come out clean.
Boxes were shifted. Some half-open. A couple looked like they’d been crammed in just to make them fit.
He climbed in.
Started moving things around…
not unloading…
just trying to get to something buried underneath everything else.
THE MOMENT
I kept watching.
Not because it was interesting. Because it felt familiar.
He’d reach for something… stop… move something else first… then go back.
Nothing had a clear place. Nothing came out in order.
It wasn’t chaos.
But it wasn’t right either.
And I felt it before I had words for it.
That quiet nudge.
The one that doesn’t explain…
just sits there until you stop ignoring it.
I wasn’t thinking about him anymore.
I was thinking about me.
I don’t need more.
I need less.
THE TURN
Not more insight. Not more effort. Not more weight.
Less.
Less that I agreed to without asking. Less that I carried because it was handed to me. Less that I kept… just because it was already there.
THE DRIFT
It’s easy to keep loading things in.
Harder to stop and ask if they belong.
I told myself it was responsibility. Growth. Even obedience.
I know.
Because I carried it.
For years.
THE REFLECTION
And now it’s in there.
Stacked. Shifted. Some of it half-open.
And when I go looking for what actually matters…
I’ve got to move everything else first.
I don’t think he finished while I was sitting there.
Still moving things. Still trying to get to what he came for.
I went back inside.
But that picture didn’t.
WALKAWAY LINE
What you carry shapes what you can reach.
SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
What have you been carrying so long… it just feels normal now?
MY PRAYER
Heavenly Father,
show me what I’ve been carrying that You never asked me to hold.
Give me the courage to let it go…
even if it’s been there a long time.
Even if it feels like it belongs now.
Put things back in order…
the way You meant them to be.
Not stacked. Not buried.
Clear.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
ABOUT G~
G~ writes from lived experience — exploring identity, authority, and time through the lens of faith, trial, leadership, and surrender. His reflections are not meant to condemn or hype, but to steady. Rooted in covenant, forged through adversity, and anchored under the authority of Jesus Christ, his work invites readers to examine who governs their lives — and to live intentionally under truth.
If what you’ve read resonates with your journey, feel free to reach out.
G~
Amen, brother Jodi.
Crazy how it can take a whole lifetime to realize…
we were chasing things that were never the treasure.
Jesus walked with sandals on His feet, a robe on His back, and the Spirit within Him.
No status. No possessions. No noise.
And still… He carried everything that mattered.
Then He left us with it.
Not money. Not power.
Salvation.
And the Holy Spirit—to guide us, correct us, and lead us back when we drift.
“But where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” — Matthew 6:21
Turns out…
He was the treasure all along.
Amen.
G~
Amen, Brother… I see it in your writing too.
And I’m grateful we’re on this trail together — locking shields and walking it out.
I remember one time coming home with way too much in my hands… reaching for the doorknob like I could carry it all.
Didn’t make it.
Everything hit the ground.
Right there on the porch.
Had to stop… set it down… and pick up what actually mattered.
Keep going, Steve.
There’s something clean forming in what you’re seeing. I am inspired as well.
G~