Yesterday, while driving, I noticed a woman carrying her dog across the street. He was leashed and I didn't know why she was carrying him, if he was hurt or just too small to make it across the busy street in time.
But all I could think was this: I wish someone would carry me.
I've read "Footprints." We've probably all read "Footprints." We know that God carries us spiritually and emotionally during times of grief and sadness and pain.
In church, in worship and in prayer, we address God's spiritual presence in our lives.
But how often do we acknowledge God's physical presence in our lives? What if God didn't just carry us in a spiritual sense? What if God carried us physically too?
When I was a teenager, I was chosen (not sure how) for All-County choir. During an all-day session, we learned different songs and sang them that night in a concert. Our instructor for the day was a chorus teacher from another school in a neighboring county. She was vibrant and talented and someone who I wish I had gotten to know for more than just one day.
It wasn't until lunch, as we all filed out of the room, that I noticed her husband walk in. She chatted with him briefly, gathering her notes and then he lifted her up in his arms and carried her out of the room.
She had multiple sclerosis.
All these years later and I still remember that moment. I felt like I was witness to something intensely private and personal and yet I couldn't look away, so overcome by the love these two people shared.
Tell me God's physical presence wasn't in the room that day.
Pride holds us back, though. We want to do everything ourselves. We think we're strong enough, if we just push hard enough. Love takes surrender. It says I can't do this on my own. And I don't care what other people think.
Carry me.
Lift me up.
Carry me.
But all I could think was this: I wish someone would carry me.
I've read "Footprints." We've probably all read "Footprints." We know that God carries us spiritually and emotionally during times of grief and sadness and pain.
In church, in worship and in prayer, we address God's spiritual presence in our lives.
But how often do we acknowledge God's physical presence in our lives? What if God didn't just carry us in a spiritual sense? What if God carried us physically too?
When I was a teenager, I was chosen (not sure how) for All-County choir. During an all-day session, we learned different songs and sang them that night in a concert. Our instructor for the day was a chorus teacher from another school in a neighboring county. She was vibrant and talented and someone who I wish I had gotten to know for more than just one day.
It wasn't until lunch, as we all filed out of the room, that I noticed her husband walk in. She chatted with him briefly, gathering her notes and then he lifted her up in his arms and carried her out of the room.
She had multiple sclerosis.
All these years later and I still remember that moment. I felt like I was witness to something intensely private and personal and yet I couldn't look away, so overcome by the love these two people shared.
Tell me God's physical presence wasn't in the room that day.
Pride holds us back, though. We want to do everything ourselves. We think we're strong enough, if we just push hard enough. Love takes surrender. It says I can't do this on my own. And I don't care what other people think.
Carry me.
Lift me up.
Carry me.
Comments
Post a Comment