I took my two girls for a walk yesterday, so we could enjoy the warmth of a sunny NC winter’s day. My oldest, a firecracker of a ginger, has an intense need and desire to take the lead and direct us all. Thankfully, my youngest daughter has no such need or desire, and will happily hang back with me and hold my hand in her small, warm, often sticky, little fingers. My oldest will plow ahead, sometimes at a gallop, and I have to call to her from behind, that she must remember to stop at the stop signs, or to wait for me at the next tree or mailbox so that we can catch up. Other times, I have to tell her to come back because we aren’t going that way, but she still is determined to lead without having any idea (sometimes) of where we are going. I laugh, because it reminds me of myself. I’m also pretty sure that God is chuckling to himself, too. Oh, how the gift/job/chore/lesson of parenthood reveals to us in such a tangible way how God sees us!
How I tug and pull angrily on that leash
wanting to drag myself
where I want to go
without a clue where I’m heading.
Blindly and stubbornly
I forge ahead,
face set in obstinate defiance
without a map or guide or plan.
I storm around in aimless circles,
Get scratched by angry branches,
blindsided by distracted drivers,
Trip over uneven patches obscured by shadows
Until my heart is depleted of it’s former belligerence,
my scraped up hands become empty,
my body utterly exhausted and bruised do I collapse
into God’s patiently waiting, outstretched hands.