I am walking hand and hand with my littlest bundle of joy Paloma into Preschool to pick up my eldest daughter Mattea. It was a beautiful spring day, we were early and had plenty of time to leisurely meander up to the front door. We were just about to the sidewalk when Paloma says to me "i walt by meself (i walk my myself)." Offended at first, I dropped her hand and realized this was only the beginning. My job as her mother is to care and nurture her for such a short time, and then release her back into the arms of God to which she originated.
Anyways, in what seemed to be slow motion, I dropped her hand, she went to take the all important step up onto the sidewalk, and biffed it. She fell flat on her face, forgetting to lift her foot up onto the sidewalk. And the sad thing is I watched it happen - knew it was going to happen - but let it happen anyways. She was OK. Her pride was hurt a little, but she jumped up shook it off and continued the journey to pick up her sister.
As I watched the silly little event play out, I was immediately reminded of my journey with Christ. So many times, I look up and say "I'll walk by myself" and then drop my Father's hand - resulting in a stumble and eventually a fall. Of course, I have jumped right back up, shook it off, and continued on my journey. How much easier it would be though, if I continued the walk holding onto the very hand that created me.