There were parts of the hike that were really steep, and parts where the kids fell down a lot. It got me thinking.
As we were coming up the last bit of the hill (in the picture above) it was pretty steep and the kids were getting pretty tired (Momma, too), and were slipping a lot. I walked with Zeke in front of me, with my arms outstretched toward him, not touching him, but staying close by him. And every time he would stumble, or tip backwards, he would tip right back into my steadying arms, which would enable him to get his feet back underneath himself and continue on. And every now and then the "trail" would get a little unclear and he would hesitate, or start wandering a bit to the side, so I would gently nudge him the right way, or sometimes without even speaking would just point which way I wanted him to go.
And suddenly it struck me how much like our Father it all was. We trudge along, sometimes looking up, seeing the top, remembering where we're going, but mostly we're head down, stumbling, not always even sure if we're going the right way, just trying to keep going. But right by us is one who loves us more than himself, walking with arms outstretched. One who sees the whole trail and how to stay on it. One who has a constant view of the top. One who catches us, steadies us, guides us. If we let him.
And we made it. Exhausted, but triumphant.
1 comment:
Beautiful! I love that, "...happy, hungry, and tired. All marks of a good day." Oh, that I might keep trudging forward, trusting my Father is right there all along the way, happy, hungry, and tired at the end of each day. What a blessing!
(Your description of your hike reminds me of the day our family hiked with your parents up to the towers behind their house and then we had a hot dog cookout over a bonfire at the end of the day. In fact, I have pictures of you helping my little guys hold their hot dogs over the fire... when they were your little people's age!)
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