Cold

It's cold here. I'm pretty sure we still live in Texas. Houston, at that. But with all this snow and below freezing temperatures, I wouldn't know. So much for our globe getting warmer!

Which tangentially reminded me that I never published several Christmas posts...(see below, and forthcoming). We are behind on lots of life's tasks right now (hopefully soon I'll be able to finish what I've started and recount the holidays!).

and so until then, on another note...

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It's been a challenging week, on several levels. And so I am sharing an image that has been on my heart and mind this week as I sought guidance from God, prayed for sweet friends, and was inspired by the faith of these dear friends.

Caris is entering what seems to be a period of transition in the area of movement. Trying to figure out how to independently get to the location of her intention. However, she dislikes the idea of crawling. Now walking, that mode of transportation highly appeals to our future biped. Lil' C loves to stand and is downright giddy when she is able to do so while holding the hands of one who has mastered the art she aspires to.

In that moment, she is able to achieve what she strives for: walking. Little wobbly step after little wobbly step, lil' C can transport herself upright. As long as her tiny hands are clasped tightly in her parent's larger versions. Periodically glancing up to see if we are still there, her face beaming with joy. Smiling, proud, ready to see her world from a new perspective, Caris longs for her parents to hold her hands and allow her to 'walk'. Without her hands in ours, she would most assuredly not be able to continue with the forward progress she desires.

But lil' C most certainly gets tired. Her legs aren't quite yet ready to walk. And she gets frustrated. She can't do it on her own. And in those moments, Caris very clearly wants to be carried. She lunges towards her parent, saying 'mama' or 'dada', arms outstretched. Quite obviously needing to be picked up. And instantaniously, her tears are gone. She is completely at peace in her mama's arms.

Lately, I have held on to the image of God doing much the same with His children. Walking right beside us. Present, in a very real way, to His child. On our own, we cannot arrive at our destination successfully without our hands reaching up, grasping those of He who is much stronger, much more skilled at walking. Someone who is A Master in the art of guidance.

My steps are often very wobbly. And I find myself searching. But when I remember to look up, I see the One who has never left my side. Who has supported me, held my hands, and provided strength along the way. And then my face beams with joy. And I realize that the next steps are not so scary, for they are not mine to take alone. I have Someone there to take them with me.

And we get tired, or are unable to take these steps on our own, He is most certainly there. And if we look toward him, arms outstretched, He will lift us up and carry us. And we can find comfort in our Father's arms.

I wonder if God uses a Bjorn?