The other day on the playground, I watched as a little girl rolled, happily, in a large pile of mulch near the playground by our house. And it wasn't until I heard her urgent screams and saw the desperation on her face, that I realized she was covered- and I mean, covered in fire-ants.
In a state of agony and panic, she managed to shriek out one word, over and over again. "Mom! Mom! Mom!"
She stood at her mother's feet, arms outstretched, completely helpless. She didn't give advice, she didn't try to wipe the furious ants from her own body, she just stood. Screaming. Trembling. Trusting...that her mother, who loved her, would save her and put an end to the pain that enslaved her.
It was absolutely terrible to watch. And since I was holding my own small child, I just stood there, watching, completely unable to help, listening to the sounds of her pitiful screams.
A knot rises in my throat when I think about it. She is fine...by the way! Fully recovered. But it touches my soul to think how she must love that heroic mother of hers.
And it begs me to ask myself, When I stand, trembling, aching, fearful, and in despair...who do I call out to? Do I call out at all, or do I reach down and brush myself off? Do I turn to my husband? My mom? My church? Or my Savior?
Oh, if my heart would but trust in that loving Savior of mine! Wouldn't I reach out to Him in times of trouble to find Him there, willing and able to comfort me and give me rest!
I pray that my heart would be faithful. I pray that I would stand at His feet, having nothing to offer, knowing my helplessness, knowing my need. Trusting in the one who can save.
And I pray this for you, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment