They are my kids; They are my teachers

I look at Chloe, my 3 yr old - innocent and trusting. We are at home, her place of comfort and security. She knows the way of things here. But we need to leave. I want her to experience different things so she learns, grows and becomes a bigger person.

We leave the house. She is excited. She doesn't know exactly where we are going; neither the purpose of our "trip". But she trusts me. She places her hand securely in mine and off we go. She follows my lead, in step with me, content to be together, knowing that with her hand in mine, she is safe. Never mind the cars that whiz by us only a few feet away. Never mind the lake, the rocks, and everything else that is potentially dangerous. She is beside me and she is safe.

But in a short while the trip begins to seem long to her. Not to me. I understand the purpose, the destination and what I have planned for her. Her steps slow. She walks with reluctance. Soon, she forgets that the journey is special in itself, as are the things we are talking and learning about in the process. She forgets there is a purpose to this trip. She is distracted by insignificant things along the way. She whines. She begs for things that I know are not good for her. They will quiet her only a bit, not make her happy. Her focus is totally gone from me, or from discovering where we are headed. She is consumed with unhappiness and thinks that the only way she will be happy are this stuff she sees - all small, cheap, and temporary. A lollipop that will only last minutes, a balloon that will burst... they seem so silly to me. I want her to focus on me, and on the surprise that awaits her.

Now the little hand in mine is not only reluctant. She doesn't hear my encouragements and promises. She tugs and pulls her hand out of mine and turns and runs. Away from me. She is done with this trip. I catch my breath and call for her to stop. She doesn't realize the danger of where she is running. All she knows is that it is away from me - away from the direction we were headed. But she quickly becomes disoriented and confused. She is too small to see the big picture of where we are. Fear replaces confidence. She pauses to listen. Can she hear me? She does. I am calling her - moving toward her. She turns, sees me, and runs into my open arms.

Her fear subsides and she places her hand in mine once more. We resume our walk, she with a heart of contentment, me with anticipation of showing her what I have planned.

I see myself in Chloe. I am so much like her. God nudges me away from my comfort zone; it is time to head out. I put my hand in His, though I don't usually know where we are headed. I just understand His gentle leading, and keep in step beside Him. One step at a time. Now here, now there. We change direction a bit, but continue to move steadily forward. I am secure. I know I can trust Him. He always keeps His promises.

But.... within a short distance I begin to think this is taking too long. I knew we were headed out, away from what was secure and comfortable to me, but I never thought it would take this long. My feet slow, and my hand in His begins to pull back a bit. I forget to look at Him, or to listen to Him. I look around me, and get distracted by things that look so appealing. I want them so much. I know they would make the trip easier.... I beg. I whine. I bargain. I am doing all the talking and it isn't sounding very nice.

I begin toying with the idea that maybe I don't want to go with God on this "trip". Actually, no I don't. This is too long, too hard. I am tired. I thought we'd be done and planning the next trip a long time ago. I jerk my hand away and turn around. I begin to run back to what is safe and secure and comfortable. Oh - but I don't see the danger. I can't see the big picture of where we are. I keep walking, ignoring God's voice. But - I can't find the place I loved. It isn't the same anymore - and quickly I become confused, scared and alone.

In time, I understand I am only secure when God is with me. To go back by myself to what I knew and loved is only loneliness. I am afraid. I stop running. I pause. Can I hear God? How far have I run away from Him? Too far? No - I can hear Him! I turn back, and see that nail-scarred hand stretched out to me - He was following me. I run - this time toward Him - right into open arms. I put my hand back into His. I am ready to get on with it. I don't care how long the trip is. I only care that I am with Him. The loneliness, the loss of direction was too hard, too scary. I look up. A mountain looms near. I grip His hand more firmly..... He whispers, "It is called grace - and trust. I have both for you."

I smile - and know at the end of this adventure - whenever it is, I will look back and say, "What a ride! What a ride!"

Isaiah 41:13 "I am holding you by your right hand - I, the Lord your God - and I say to you, 'Don't be afraid. I am here to help you'."