Tuesday, February 11, 2014

The fall

Sam comes over to me with his arms raised above his head.  In the universal language every parent understands he makes a silent plea.

Pick me up.

His eyes are rimmed with tears, his pacifier hangs from his slightly open mouth.  He isn’t full on crying, but he’s close. 

He’s been hurt. 

His sister, in her sweet joy to greet daddy as he gets home from work, has rushed right past him.  He’s still so little, just learning what it means to have two feet under him.  He got confused, lost balance, and fell.  It happens.  He sticks his bottom in the air, balances himself fully on two chubby hands and gets himself upright.  The worst is over.

But the hurt is still there. 

Not knowing what else to do he toddles his way to the one person he knows will not turn blindly from his tears and leave him as he is. 

Arms up high, over head.  Hands open.  Eyes pleading. 

PICK ME UP. 

Without a word I answer him.  I pick him up, cuddle him, carry him.  I give him comfort.  He rests his head against my shoulder and I hold him. 

When he’s ready he wiggles free and toddles off again.  He’s content.  The tears are gone.  The lesson is not. 

Aren’t we all still learning to walk on two feet?  This side of heaven don’t we all toddle?  Don’t we all fall down?

It’s part of the life in this beautiful and broken place we call home.  We will fall.  Mistakenly.  Purposely.  Accidentally.  Tragically.  It happens.

What we do in those times determines more of what will become of us than the fall itself. 
Do we sit there, in misery, commiserating over our sad estate and looking for validation? 
Do we wait for someone to come and get us? 
Do we get up, walk off, and pretend it never happened? 
Do we strengthen our stance, dig in our heels and push away anything and anyone that has the possibility of knocking us over? 

Or, do we, knowing that falling is part of walking, get back up and toddle over silently to our Daddy? 

Arms up high, over head.  Hands open.  Eyes pleading. 

PICK ME UP.

Would He, loving us so much so that He gave His son for us, look at us and push us back down?  Would He turn away?  Would He chastise us?

No.  He will hold you.  He will comfort you.  He will carry you.  Today, if you’ve fallen, make your plea, and then, rest your head against His shoulder and let Him carry you.