That Time God Used a 4 Year Old to Make a Point

We had RFKC last week. I am still deconstructing it a bit in my head, so I'm not ready yet for a blog post on it but I will say it was absolutely the best and EASIEST year we have ever had (year 15!) and just a year that we felt the Lord's hand and presence so heavily. It was a beautiful week for all of us. 

Our summer so far has consisted of the week before camp (cleaning and packing), the week of camp (tennis clinic for the girls), and this week (volleyball camp for the girls, bathroom cabinet organization/laundry/basement work for me, back to work for Kraig) with a bit of swimming. Summer is going by SO quickly.

I did have a moment yesterday, though. A friend of ours came to swim and brought her newly turned four year old. As she was first getting into the water, she would cling tightly to her mom, then would say, "I can do it myself, let go of me." Her (patient) mom would let her go, only for her to paddle a few strokes, then quickly panic a bit and say, "Get me! I want to hold you!" Mom would get her again and in a few seconds, "I can swim! Let me do it myself." This cycle repeated over and over and over until she did finally become comfortable in the water. 

I saw so much of myself in her actions. That is totally me, all the time with God. I will have my hand in His, clinging tightly to Him, safe in His arms, then the next minute I am shoving Him away, explaining that I can do it myself. It doesn't take long, though, until I realize I need guidance or a bailout or help and I am grabbing hold of Him again, crying, "Get me! I want to hold you!" 

Back and forth. Back and forth. 

Again and again. 

Grab and push. Grab and push. 

I wonder if I make Him tired? If I do, He is still as patient as can be with me, just like Shelby's mom was with her. Those Hands are always there, open and reaching for me whenever I'm ready to let Him take control again. 

See, there's one particular topic that I just can't let Him carry me through. I have some good days and weeks and even months, then something will click in my brain and I'm frantically paddling on my own again, refusing to allow Him to help until I have to desperately scream for Him again. I had been splashing around for several days, insisting that I can "do it myself"(even when my fragile heart and my panicky brain were saying otherwise) when, on Tuesday morning, I had a God-moment in Target. He sent along the perfect person to give me the exact message I needed at the exact moment I was started to go under. Through this other person, He gently reminded me of Jeremiah 29:11 and slid His hands into mine, calming my frenzied battle with the water. It was actually the afternoon of that day when I watched my own resistance to His guidance play out in the swimming pool at my mom's house with a sweet curly-haired blond girl named Shelby. 

The difference is that Shelby's barely four. And new at swimming. I'm thirty-five and should have this thing licked. Thankfully, His Hands stay close, ready to pick me up again at a moment's notice. 

Behold, the LORD'S hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; 

neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear...

Isaiah 59:1