I didn't write this, but I'm stealing it in it's entirety, and only kind of giving credit where credit is due.
"My friend Greg used to talk about how a kid learns to walk. Parents are so proud when their little one takes his first teetering steps on his own. And they'll spend hours walking around the house letting him hold onto their fingers as he learns to pick his feet up and put them down. As he learns to balance on his own. And they'll hold him up before he starts to fall down. But gradually, he learns how to do it on his own. Slowly, they start to pull their hands away. At some point he realizes he doesn't need their hands anymore. He makes his way holding onto couches and chairs, toys and coffee tables. And parents' hands become more useful for picking up when he falls down. For comforting when he needs it. But eventually, he doesn't even need that. Eventually he is running and jumping on his own. Parents' hands are no longer needed at all. And that's the mark of success.
"My friend Greg used to talk about how a kid learns to walk. Parents are so proud when their little one takes his first teetering steps on his own. And they'll spend hours walking around the house letting him hold onto their fingers as he learns to pick his feet up and put them down. As he learns to balance on his own. And they'll hold him up before he starts to fall down. But gradually, he learns how to do it on his own. Slowly, they start to pull their hands away. At some point he realizes he doesn't need their hands anymore. He makes his way holding onto couches and chairs, toys and coffee tables. And parents' hands become more useful for picking up when he falls down. For comforting when he needs it. But eventually, he doesn't even need that. Eventually he is running and jumping on his own. Parents' hands are no longer needed at all. And that's the mark of success.
Somewhere along the way, we've been taught to believe that's how the Lord works. That he totters around with us holding onto his fingers while we start to figure things out. That he rejoices when we start to let go, when we start to hold onto other things instead. That he's proud of us when we start running and jumping on our own. That he stands there like a proud father with his chest puffed out, saying, "Look at my kid! Look what he can do!"
And so we try. We try to become good enough to let go. To fly and soar on our own. And with each step we take, we break His heart a little more. Not in the "I can't believe I'm watching my baby grow up" kind of way; but the "I never meant for him to do this on his own" kind of way.
Because the whole point is to totter around holding onto our Father's hands forever. Our success is not measured by how far we make it on our own, but by how tightly we are gripping his fingers with our grubby little hands.
So, no, I don't know why I keep waiting for this to get easy. But when I say it's hard, it's not a measure of difficulty, but of dependence. And I stop trying to pry my hand away and wrap my fingers a little tighter."
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