Not Quite Yet

Little Bear

 I have lost count of how many times I have gasped and sat up on the edge of my seat, thinking that Baby Girl was just...this...close...to taking that first step.  I watch her for a few moments, reaching my hands out to her, encouraging her.  She stands, barely an inch from the couch, blinking at the unfamiliar feeling of supporting all her weight on her own two feet.  She stretches her arms away from her body, fingers fully extended, legs beginning to wobble with effort.  She rocks on her heels and toes, reaching, grasping, thinking...  You can almost see her willing her own foot to rise from the ground.  Seconds later I fall back into my chair and shrug, not quite yet, as she plops down into her "little bear" position and saunters away.

While I am not discouraged that she hasn't taken that first step alone yet, I do sometimes feel disheartened after a difficult occupational or physical therapy session.  There are days when she refuses to put her feet on the ground, when she hangs the weight of her body from my arms or the arms of her therapists, and pulls her toes up toward her chest, as far from the floor as she can get them.  She insists with loud cries of protest, not that she cannot walk, but that she will not.  I do not worry about her physical ability to walk, I worry about her emotional willingness to do so.  She does not like for her body to be manipulated, and I fear that her extreme aversion to accepting help will begin to impede her forward progress.  My adorable little bear is stuck right now; when she stands and stretches her body forward it is as though her feet are glued to the floor. It seems as though her feet cannot receive the message that her brain is sending.  If only she would let us lift that foot for her, put her body through the motions, help her brain to imprint the message in the movements of her body.  Once the connections are made, I believe there will be no stopping her.

In those moments when I catch her trying on her own, I can see on her face that she wants to take a step.  I can tell by her eyes that she will take a step.  I get a glimpse of her resolve, and I reach my hands out toward her, coaxing her, calling her, yearning for her to make that move.  She stares at me, and then her glance wavers, and she sits with a plop and a look that says, not quite yet.

Tonight, I am aware that I am not unlike my Baby Girl.  Emotionally, I have been stuck in a tough spot for a while, shrouded in doubt and darkness and depression.  I know the steps that will lead me out, I know who I need to call on and in whom to place my trust.  So I struggle onto my feet and I reach my arms out toward the One who can rescue me.  I tell my brain to make my heart believe the truth instead of lies, I will myself to keep moving forward.  As I stretch a little further, I falter, I wobble, and I plop back down in my muddy pit.  Not quite yet.  I know that it is time to move forward, and yet I am afraid to let go of what has anchored me in this season of my life.  I am ashamed to admit that my anchor has been wallowing in misery and self-pity and anger.  I have lost track of what, exactly, I am really angry about.  But I have let so many dark thoughts and so much bitterness slowly seep into my veins, that I am afraid if I let go of all the anger I am holding onto, I will fall flat on my face.  I will be weak.  I will be broken.  My anger seems to hold me up, I think it is a wall I have built to keep me strong.  Instead it is a weight that holds me down, and presses me further into the mud.

Looking on in anticipation as my Baby Girl stands, thinking about how she may need more help to take those first steps, I began to feel an awareness of how much I need to allow myself to receive help as well.  I believe that my Father God is watching me, wanting so much to help me, take the weight of my anger from me so that I can escape this pit and allow him to change my heart.   Even though I wobble and falter, He is delighted just to know that I want to take that first step.  He is on the edge of his seat, stretching toward me and wanting me to reach for Him, and He promises He will not let me fall.  He is not disappointed that I haven't taken that step yet; He is overjoyed that I am willing to try.

That I will keep trying, that I will allow myself to be rescued, that I will ask Him to lift me, and that I will walk out every step of Psalm 40 with His help...  This is my prayer tonight.

¹ I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,
    and he turned to me and heard my cry.
² He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
    out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
    and steadied me as I walked along.
³ He has given me a new song to sing,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see what he has done and be amazed.
    They will put their trust in the Lord.

⁴ Oh, the joys of those who trust the Lord,
    who have no confidence in the proud
    or in those who worship idols.
⁵ O Lord my God, you have performed many wonders for us.
    Your plans for us are too numerous to list.
    You have no equal.
If I tried to recite all your wonderful deeds,
    I would never come to the end of them.

⁶ You take no delight in sacrifices or offerings.
    Now that you have made me listen, I finally understand—
    you don’t require burnt offerings or sin offerings.
⁷ Then I said, “Look, I have come.
    As is written about me in the Scriptures:
⁸ I take joy in doing your will, my God,
    for your instructions are written on my heart.”

⁹ I have told all your people about your justice.
    I have not been afraid to speak out,
    as you, O Lord, well know.
¹⁰ I have not kept the good news of your justice hidden in my heart;
    I have talked about your faithfulness and saving power.
I have told everyone in the great assembly
    of your unfailing love and faithfulness.

¹¹ Lord, don’t hold back your tender mercies from me.
    Let your unfailing love and faithfulness always protect me.
¹² For troubles surround me—
    too many to count!
My sins pile up so high
    I can’t see my way out.
They outnumber the hairs on my head.
    I have lost all courage.

¹³ Please, Lord, rescue me!
    Come quickly, Lord, and help me.
¹⁴ May those who try to destroy me
    be humiliated and put to shame.
May those who take delight in my trouble
    be turned back in disgrace.
¹⁵ Let them be horrified by their shame,
    for they said, “Aha! We’ve got him now!”

Not quite yet...

¹⁶ But may all who search for you
    be filled with joy and gladness in you.
May those who love your salvation
    repeatedly shout, “The Lord is great!”
¹⁷ As for me, since I am poor and needy,
    let the Lord keep me in his thoughts.
You are my helper and my savior.
    O my God, do not delay.

Psalm 40, New Living Translation