I do like matching words with paintings. Maybe I'll even find an illustration to go along with.... well... with whatever tumbles out as I click away here on a keyboard, determined to make this a ramble of whatever comes to mind.
Which is a scary thought indeed. I feel like an acrobat performing without a net (note to self: look for a painting of an acrobat performing without a net).
Let's see. It's cold here today. Very. The snow that fell overnight sits right where it landed; it isn't going anywhere at these temperatures. Nor am I, for I don't go out much anymore in snow. I had to drive through it, however, back when my children needed rides home from school.
It was during one such drive when God let me know (again) that He loved me. Inching my vehicle through a sudden snowstorm, I panicked when the car's back started to fishtail. I panicked anew as I watched a school bus skid through a stop sign and spin totally around in the intersection.
I had a small child waiting for me eight miles from my home, but could I reach him safely? My toddler, meanwhile, sat beside me, humming happily. In those days, little ones could ride in the front seat with Mommy, in regular seat belts. And in those days, cell phones were far in the future.
Totally lacking in driving-confidence, I was pretty hopeless in snow. But my husband drove in anything - he could make it through a storm like this. He'd have to leave work to help us out, but that would be better than my plowing our little ones into a tree. Realizing I needed his help, I pulled (slid) into the parking lot of a pizza restaurant. Only to see, in the window, a sign.
"Restrooms for customers only. No public telephone."
I did what any sensible "me" would do under the circumstances. I sat in the car and cried.
And then I felt guilty about crying, and hopelessly un-adult, and most of all lacking in faith. I mean, I trusted in God, I knew I did, and I believed He was watching out for us, and He could get us through anything, and this was just snow after all. It wasn't a famine.
But I was a failure. I was, I just knew it. I didn't have enough confidence to keep on driving. I felt I was failing my children, myself, my husband, my God.
My tears turned out to be an asset when I finally slogged into the restaurant with a three year old in tow. I was allowed to use the non-public phone and then go back to the car to wait for my husband to round up us all. As my toddler ("Frankie") sat oblivious to my lovely pity party, he continued humming, thankfully unconcerned.
I, meanwhile, was praying. Not aloud - this was happening inside my heart, where I was apologizing to God for not having enough faith to keep on driving, and where I was feeling embarrassed, and even secretly asking God how (if) He could possibly love a scaredy cat like me.
"Mommy?" Frankie's little voice interrupted my silent confession. "Mommy, Jesus loves me!"
Yes, He indeed did, I said to my little one (who'd been humming "Jesus Loves Me" all this time).
"And Mommy," Frankie continued, this time with emphasis. "Jesus loves YOU, too!"
Out Of The Mouths Of Babes.
It is now years later, and I have made my peace with snow. And with the truth that God loves me, even if I can't make myself drive when the weather is bad.
And notice the painting I found to go with this ramble. There the lady stands, perched atop the high wire, which obviously isn't all that high. One stumble and she'd be in the arms of the people all around her.
One stumble, and I find God's love waiting for me.
I need not fear reaching even for so marvelous a goal as holiness, for all around me are the saints of God.
"Since we for our part are surrounded by this cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every encumbrance of sin which clings to us and persevere in running the race which lies ahead." (Hebrews 12:1)
Painting: Forain, The Tightrope Walker
