I had a bit of a revelation the other day. I wrote it down then but have just now decided to share it. By no means do I feel worthy or fit enough to impart any sort of wisdom. Most of the time I feel like a complete mess. But at the same time, another part of me compels me to share when I would really,
really rather not. And because I know what, or Who, it is doing the compelling, I have a hard time saying,
no. So….
Jeb and I were playing on my bed last week. For a long time he sat contentedly beside me and rummaged through my make-up bag before the mascara tubes and bronzer brushes got boring. Suddenly, he began crawling full-speed toward the edge of the bed. I thought surely he would stop, but… he didn’t. I quickly reached over and grabbed him by the ankle only seconds before he made the harrowing plunge to the floor and certain destruction. But instead of extending me a little gratitude as his rescuer, he proceeded to pitch an all-out, eight month old fit, complete with flailing arms and deafening screams. The harder I held on, the more he struggled to propel himself toward the edge. He had tunnel vision. A single goal. A destination from which an extremely bothersome and unseen hand was keeping him. He was furious and yelled all the louder, though never took the time to actually look back at me. He was focused.
Though the drama was a bit annoying, I almost had to laugh. The little guy had no idea what he was trying to get himself into. And though he couldn’t hear me above his cries of frustration, I kept trying to tell him, “Sweet Boy, if Mommy lets you go, you’re going to fall right on your head. I understand you don’t believe me, but I know something you don’t about what’s ahead of you. And I know you want to go, but I can’t let you take that fall.”
As those words left my mouth, I sat there almost frozen, holding his little ankle. At that moment, I caught an unexpected glimpse of God. My mind began to recall time after time when I pitched a supreme fit over something I wanted… was determined to have… yet, He said,
no. I remembered being so furious at Him for not answering my prayers the way I wanted…. like when I prayed to marry a certain boy, or when I prayed those long months for Him to give me a child, or for Him not to take my best friend to Heaven. And each and every time, when He did not let me have the desires of my heart, I kicked and flailed and screamed so loud that I couldn’t hear His voice whispering, “Sweet Girl, if I let you go, you’re going to fall. I understand you don’t believe Me, but I know something you don’t about what’s ahead of you.” I sat there, holding Jeb, humbled beyond words. All those times when He held me back, rescuing me from my own selfish desires… holding me back from what I wanted until the time was right for Him to give me what I needed—His plan for me fulfilled and what ultimately was bigger and better and more than my human mind could have imagined for myself…the thought absolutely overwhelmed me.
I
am human, and as I said earlier, a mess most of the time. Hopelessly, hopelessly flawed. I know there will be times when, like Jeb, I will once again unknowingly set myself up for a painful fall. But I believe that He will be there, and just in time, He will reach out His hand and grab me by the ankle. How awesome.