Lucado trae una nueva luz a un pasaje antiguo: el Salmo 23. Él dice que este salmo fue «escrito por un pastor que se convirtió en rey―porque Él quería que nosotros supiéramos sobre un Rey que se convirtió en un pastor». Lucado nos reta a considerar el equipaje que todos cargamos y la necesidad abrumadora de dejar estas cargas a un Dios que ya está dispuesto a ser nuestro todo. Desde que entró en el ministerio en 1978, MAX LUCADO ha servido en iglesias de Miami, Florida; Río de Janeiro, Brasil; y San Antonio, Texas. Actualmente sirve como pastor de enseñanza de la Iglesia Oak Hills en San Antonio. Ha recibido el Premio Pinnacle 2021 de la ECPA por su destacada contribución a la industria editorial y la sociedad en general. Es el autor inspirador más vendido de Estados Unidos, con más de ciento cincuenta millones de productos impresos. Siga su sitio web en librosdemaxlucado.com Aligere Su Equipaje Despojemonos de Las Cargas Que Nunca Debimos Llevar - La Promesa del Salmo 23 By Max Lucado Caribe/Betania Editores Copyright © 2001 Max Lucado All right reserved. ISBN: 9780881136739 Chapter One The Luggage of Life I've never been one to travel light. I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. But ever since I stuck threefingers in the air and took the Boy Scout pledge to be prepared, I'vebeen determined to be exactly that-prepared. Prepared for a bar mitzvah, baby dedication, or costume party.Prepared to parachute behind enemy lines or enter a cricket tournament.And if, perchance, the Dalai Lama might be on my flight andinvite me to dine in Tibet, I carry snowshoes. One has to be prepared. I don't know how to travel light. Fact is, there's a lot about travel I don't know. I don't know how tointerpret the restrictions of a supersaver seat- half price if you leave onWednesdays during duck-hunting season and return when the moon is full ina nonelection year . I don't know why they don't build the whole planeout of the same metal they use to build the little black box. I don'tknow how to escape the airplane toilet without sacrificing one of myextremities to the jaws of the folding door. And I don't know what tosay to guys like the taxi driver in Rio who learned I was an Americanand asked me if I knew his cousin Eddie who lives in the U.S. There's a lot about traveling I don't know. I don't know why we men would rather floss a crocodile than askfor directions. I don't know why vacation slides aren't used to treatinsomnia, and I don't know when I'll learn not to eat food whosenames I can't pronounce. But most of all, I don't know how to travel light. I don't know how to travel without granola bars, sodas, and raingear. I don't know how to travel without flashlights and a generatorand a global tracking system. I don't know how to travel without anice chest of wieners. What if I stumble upon a backyard barbecue? Tobring nothing to the party would be rude. Every travel-catalog company in the world has my credit-cardnumber. I've got an iron that doubles as a paperweight, a hair dryerthe size of a coach's whistle, a Swiss Army knife that expands into apup tent, and a pair of pants that inflate upon impact. (On one flightmy wife, Denalyn, gave me a swat on the leg, and I couldn't get outof my seat.) I don't know how to travel light. But I need to learn. Denalynrefuses to give birth to any more children even though the airlinesallow each passenger three checked bags and two carry-ons. I need to learn to travel light. You're wondering why I can't. Loosen up! you're thinking. You can'tenjoy a journey carrying so much stuff. Why don't you just drop all that luggage? Funny you should ask. I'd like to inquire the same of you. Haven'tyou been known to pick up a few bags? Odds are, you did this morning. Somewhere between the first stepon the floor and the last step out the door, you grabbed some luggage.You stepped over to the baggage carousel and loaded up. Don'tremember doing so? That's because you did it without thinking. Don'tremember seeing a baggage terminal? That's because the carousel isnot the one in the airport; it's the one in the mind. And the bags wegrab are not made of leather; they're made of burdens. The suitcase of guilt. A sack of discontent. You drape a duffel bag ofweariness on one shoulder and a hanging bag of grief on the other.Add on a backpack of doubt, an overnight bag of loneliness, and atrunk of fear. Pretty soon you're pulling more stuff than a skycap. Nowonder you're so tired at the end of the day. Lugging luggage isexhausting. What you were saying to me, God is saying to you, "Set that stuffdown! You're carrying burdens you don't need to bear." "Come to me," he invites, "all of you who are weary and carryheavy burdens, and I will give you rest" (Matt. 11:28 NLT). If we let him, God will lighten our loads ... but how do we let him?May I invite an old friend to show us? The Twenty-third Psalm. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pas