A Ditch (Part 2)
I said last Thursday I'd back on Monday...
Or, on Tuesday....smile
Because Monday? It got away from me.
___________________________
...He was there with me.
I was not alone. I mean, I've sung the perennial favorite What a Friend We Have in Jesus and read the poem Footprints more times than should be allowed by law, but coming to the realization that He never leaves me was to say the least daunting.
In fact, if examined from a logical viewpoint, even a bit creepy, as pointed out to me by my then three year old. “Mama, does God watch over you when you’re sleeping?” asked Little Bit as I snuggled her into bed a few years ago. Never skipping a beat my reply was, “You betcha!” “Even when you get out of bed to go to the bathroom,” she paused “Is He there, too?” She sounded slightly nervous at this point, and I was beginning to get her drift. My response, blithely, was to the effect that she’d never need to be weary of the dark again. Unfortunately, I should have been a bit clearer, because to this day the kid can’t sleep with the door to the bathroom ajar.
From a spiritual standpoint, although still slightly unnerved by the notion, I find the concept that we’re never alone comforting. People will disappoint me. I’ll do ridiculous things and punish myself indefinitely for them. I’ll end up in the ditch and will show too much pride to ask someone to come beside me and maybe even beneath me and lift and push and pull me up, but even then?
He’s with me.
The Creator of the heavens.
The One who spoke the stars into being.
This God who became man, lived on this earth without sin, and died for all of mine.
He’s with me.
I need to start getting out of my own way. I need to realize that hoping for control and actually having it are two completely different concepts. I need to willingly give it over to Him instead of clutching it in my hands until it’s worn and twisted and wrung so hard that the writing is no longer legible. It whatever it is was never mine to begin with. It has always been His...much like I have. I’m loved, and I’m certainly not alone in these trenches.
In fact, if I was to open my eyes and glance, I’d see hands outstretched all over the place. Sleeves rolled up ready to lend a hand. Because our God? He never leaves us anywhere alone...and He always makes sure we have a way back out.
For this? Thankful does not seem to cut it.
But...don’t be surprised if all of the bathroom doors in the house are shut tight when the last light is extinguished this evening. Wink.
Or, on Tuesday....smile
Because Monday? It got away from me.
___________________________
...He was there with me.
I was not alone. I mean, I've sung the perennial favorite What a Friend We Have in Jesus and read the poem Footprints more times than should be allowed by law, but coming to the realization that He never leaves me was to say the least daunting.
In fact, if examined from a logical viewpoint, even a bit creepy, as pointed out to me by my then three year old. “Mama, does God watch over you when you’re sleeping?” asked Little Bit as I snuggled her into bed a few years ago. Never skipping a beat my reply was, “You betcha!” “Even when you get out of bed to go to the bathroom,” she paused “Is He there, too?” She sounded slightly nervous at this point, and I was beginning to get her drift. My response, blithely, was to the effect that she’d never need to be weary of the dark again. Unfortunately, I should have been a bit clearer, because to this day the kid can’t sleep with the door to the bathroom ajar.
From a spiritual standpoint, although still slightly unnerved by the notion, I find the concept that we’re never alone comforting. People will disappoint me. I’ll do ridiculous things and punish myself indefinitely for them. I’ll end up in the ditch and will show too much pride to ask someone to come beside me and maybe even beneath me and lift and push and pull me up, but even then?
He’s with me.
The Creator of the heavens.
The One who spoke the stars into being.
This God who became man, lived on this earth without sin, and died for all of mine.
He’s with me.
I need to start getting out of my own way. I need to realize that hoping for control and actually having it are two completely different concepts. I need to willingly give it over to Him instead of clutching it in my hands until it’s worn and twisted and wrung so hard that the writing is no longer legible. It whatever it is was never mine to begin with. It has always been His...much like I have. I’m loved, and I’m certainly not alone in these trenches.
In fact, if I was to open my eyes and glance, I’d see hands outstretched all over the place. Sleeves rolled up ready to lend a hand. Because our God? He never leaves us anywhere alone...and He always makes sure we have a way back out.
For this? Thankful does not seem to cut it.
But...don’t be surprised if all of the bathroom doors in the house are shut tight when the last light is extinguished this evening. Wink.
"I need to start getting out of my own way."
ReplyDeleteThis could be my permanent mantra. It's the single most common place for me to wind up. seriously.