Follow the leader

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.

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