Pour-Over: Choosing Lighter
On a mountain trail and at a Bible Geeks retreat, I learned the same truth: you can’t grow if your hands are full. Pruning happens in quiet, intentional spaces where we notice the weight we’ve been calling “necessary.”
It’s 5:30 a.m. here in Arizona, and the sky is just starting to hint at turning purple after an all-night thunderstorm. The house is quiet. The only sound is the slow, steady drip of water through the coffee filter. It’s a pour-over kind of morning — the kind that asks for a little more patience but always gives back something better in the cup. It’s a Brazilian blend from my friends at Peixoto here in town.
Slowing down to reflect on my latest post, “Pack Light,” which is still swirling in my mind along with the steam from this mug. I wrote about my first backpacking trip up Horton Springs, about hauling a pack that was comically overweight, and how every step was a chore.
The crazy thing wasn’t that my pack was too heavy. It’s that I’d packed it that way on purpose. I was so afraid of being unprepared that I chose to be overburdened.
But that’s how I often approach life. Full load. No margin. A “just in case” mentality that has me dragging along commitments, anxieties, and even old regrets, just so I’ll never be caught off guard. I won’t get into specifics — but I’m guessing I’m not the only one with more baggage than necessary on the trail.
It was during our Bible Geeks virtual retreat this past week that the metaphor got uncomfortably clear. Ryan, my co-host and best friend, had pushed for us to build “sabbath space” into our packed schedules. He planned out three days of reading, reflection, prayer, and planning before our fall season ramps up. My immediate, internal reaction was resistance. There’s too much to do. We need to move, to work, to maximize this time. My “just in case” mentality wasn’t just in my backpack — it was on my calendar.
But in one of those quiet moments where we read Jesus’ famous words about fruitfulness, it clicked: you can’t grow if your hands are full. You can’t receive a gift if your fists are clenched. The verse was John 15:2:
“Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit”
— John 15:2
The pruning Jesus talks about doesn’t happen while we’re sprinting from one task to the next. The Vinedresser needs us to be still for a moment so he can do his work.
The pruning happens in the quiet, intentional spaces — a “sabbath” retreat, a 5:30 a.m. coffee, an honest conversation with someone you trust. These moments don't magically appear. You have to choose them, to protect them, sometimes even to fight for them.
And when you do, you finally have the quiet you need to notice the dead weight. The habits, grudges, and false securities you’ve been calling “necessary.” The things you’ve been hauling in your pack for so long you forgot you could even take them out.
I didn’t come home from that Horton Springs trip with stronger legs — I came home with a lighter pack. And in a season where I’m learning to trust God’s provision more deeply, that feels like the better prize.
See you on the trail!
This post is a behind-the-scenes reflection on my latest article. You can read the full post here: Pack Light →
