Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
I love to watch my young son toddling along. Cautious, bumbling, unsteady he goes, so proud of his new found skill. For the most part he gets it. He walks around the house and around the yard with little or no help from Mommy. But every once in awhile something stops him in his tracks. Not enough to make him fall – but enough to make him raise his arms up and wail for me. There he stands, hands upturned, face red, screaming for my help. And there I stand, encouraging, prodding, beckoning him to come to me. His cries get louder, his face gets redder, until it's clear that he won't budge. Something has him confused and confounded and he needs me. I reach down and pick him up.
Sometimes I’m like that.
Like this morning.
I have a situation in my life that's causing pain. Most days I go along, cautious, bumbling, unsteady, but going along nonetheless.
Then it gets to be too much. I ball my hands into fists and cover my face and cry out. "God, I can't do this. It's too heavy." And there He stands. Encouraging, prodding, beckoning me to come to Him. But I won't budge. I'm confused and confounded and I need Him. He reaches down and picks me up.
He sends a friend. Or relief from the heat. Or a light at the end of the tunnel. The situation isn't gone. It isn't anywhere close to being resolved. But, for the moment, I know that it's going to be okay.
My Heavenly Father is carrying me.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."