Skip to main content

Look at Me. You Are Okay.

She heard the loud rumble of the street sweeper before she saw the massive machine's steady progress towards her. At eighteen months, she was understandably frightened. She sensed danger. She sensed power far greater than hers. She turned to run, but my daughter grabbed her little hand and stopped her.

"Look at me." She told the frightened toddler, but the toddler refused. Her fear was too great. Her only thought was that of getting away, getting far away from that thing, that monster coming at them. My daughter persisted, "E, look at me." She squatted down to be at her level and turned her ward so that she had no choice but to look. The child stopped struggling and looked straight into her guardian's eyes. Having her full attention now, my daughter said to her, "You are okay. You're okay. The street sweeper is not going to get us. It is not going to come up on the sidewalk. We're safe. It will come close to us, but it won't hurt us. You're okay."

As my daughter described to me this little vignette of her day, I couldn't help but think of how many times God must say that to us over the course of our lives, but we, like E, can only see the object of our fear as it comes closer. We can only see that which threatens our security, our stability, our current way of life, our resources, our happiness. We may pray about it, talk to God about it, but as we do, I think most of the time, we're focused on the roar and power of the street sweeper as it closes in on us. We may talk to God, but our hearts are engaged elsewhere. We don't necessarily want to pray like that. We want to be fully present with God, but our fear is too great.

Yet in our trials, our fear, and our pain, He holds us. He says to us, "Look at Me with your heart: You are okay. You're okay. It will come close to you, but it won't hurt you."

. . . and if we would just believe Him, believe His words, what would our days be like? Would we finally walk in that "peace that passes understanding?" I don't know for sure, but I'd really like to give it a try and let you know.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

As A Child

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18:3 Become like little children? Really? Children are definitely cute and innocent, but that pretty much covers the positive qualities. On the negative side, however, the list is quite a bit lengthier: demanding, dependent, self-centered, messy, often smelly, expensive, and embarrassingly honest. So why? WHY in the world would Jesus tell us to become like little children? WHY in the world would He want that? What was He thinking?! Well, He was a thirty-something year-old bachelor. Maybe He didn't really know what He was talking about when He said that. I mean, if we come to Him like little children, it's pretty much guaranteed to be messy. We're likely to be crabby, cranky. We might be downright angry. Prayer-ADD is hard to control on a good day. If we're not on top of it, if we don't have our list in front of us to focus our thoughts, we...

The Hug That Said It All

I witnessed a hug the other day. Big deal, right? People see other people hug all the time. Yeah, but this was a hug that melted my heart. We attended a graduation party in honor of our nephew. It was held under a pavilion. There was quite a spread of food, and each table was loaded with decorations and favors (very nicely done, Ange!). Obviously a lot of work . . . a lot of love was poured into this party. As the evening wound down, many of us hung around to help clean up. That's the un-fun part of a party. The un-fun part of this party became even more un-fun when, in an attempt to dump a drum of trash into a plastic trash bag, wet, gooey, smelley garbage ended up on the concrete floor of the pavilion. It was rank and disgusting, but my sister-in-law (the afore mentioned "Ange.") cleaned up without complaint. When the graduate meandered by shortly thereafter, I jokingly told him, in a scolding voice, that he had better get down on his knees in gratitude for all his moth...

Believing the Lies

My husband and I recently watched The Help - a story about a group of African American women who worked as maids in Jackson, Mississippi in the '60s. One of the protagonists works for a woman "who got no b'ness havin' babies." This woman, this family maid and nanny, tells her little two year old ward regularly, "You is pretty. You is smart. You is impor'ant." How difficult it is for us to believe that about ourselves - really, to believe anything good about ourselves. I always try to be my raw self when I write a blog post. Today is no exception. So I confess that I've been drowning in a storm of lies lately. My head knows they're lies, and I could easily tell anyone else in the same place that they're lies, but I haven't been able to get a grip. There have been so many of them coming at me at once. It seems that I just break the surface, gulp some fresh air of truth then get pulled back under. One thing I know: the enemy of our ...