Walking on a Moving Sidewalk

People watching is a sport. Trying to not be mean while people watching is a challenge. But in airports, most people have the same end goal and it’s interesting to see how different ones approach it.

Some people walk at their own pace never using the moving sidewalks.

Some people get on the moving sidewalks and stand.

Some people get on the moving sidewalk and keep walking.

I was thinking about those three groups as I walked the moving sidewalk. I wasn’t in a hurry to get to a gate, just can’t imagine not getting where I’m going the quickest way possible.

It seems a lot like how we approach life. Some of us go about it our own way, wanting no help, relying on ourselves and only calling out to God when broken. Some like to ask God to take us where we want to go, getting on the path then waiting. And then there’s those who ask for his help and start moving on their own as well.

I thought for a few moments, that walking down the moving sidewalk, or combining action with prayer, was the way to go. I was thinking about how I try to always do that, though often I’m walking before the praying. See, I was getting there faster than the people walking beside or standing on the moving sidewalk. I was doing pretty good.

But then, a cart zoomed by me with passengers who had asked for help and taken a ride. They weren’t in control of the cart, but knew they’d get where they needed to go. Maybe that’s how we really should be with God. Not driving ourselves, but asking for help and relying on him completely.

I prefer the moving sidewalk, but I’m thinking more about that cart…

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

If There Were No Valleys

I’d like to write a post about how much better today was than yesterday, some lesson about how a new day brought a new perspective.  In a way that was true, as Michael actually went 12 hours in a deep sleep with no shower or vomiting (shower= even better than meds when he’s sick).  We thought he was turning the corner on this episode.  I even got a few hours sleep, even if it was in a chair.  But that’s a lot better than the night before.

Instead, a new day brought news of my grandmother suffering two strokes in the night.  And my mom, who has been watching the boys while I focus on Michael, needed to go be with her.  But to add to the struggle, her car needed work that she can’t really afford, leaving means taking yet another unpaid day (or more) off work, and of course there was the matter of figuring out how to get my boys taken care of.  I reached out to friends to help solve the matter of the boys, and as I knew they would, faithful friends took that burden away.  There was still the puzzle to figure out of who would take them when, and what they needed, and where they needed to be, but there’s no question of them being taken care of and loved on.  My mom’s car/financial situation didn’t magically resolve itself, and as I write the work still isn’t done and she hasn’t been able to leave yet.  But God will provide, I do believe that.  

Reaching out and asking for help isn’t in my comfort zone.  It’s a phobia to tell the truth.  But I know that I can’t do it alone, and I miss out on so much when I don’t get pushed out of what’s easy.  With our search for Austin and our battle with Michael’s illness, I spend more time asking for help than I’d ever choose to.

But I can tell you this… if I didn’t face these valleys I’d never know the full gratitude of love and friendship.  I would miss the chance to be encouraged by a text, phone call or email that just checks in.  I’d miss a cup of coffee being delivered that wasn’t even asked for but much needed, that warmed more than just my hands.  My kids would miss the chance to know that they can count on others too, that this life is meant to be lived together.  They might grow up thinking church is a place we go, instead of the people who live it.

I’m not crazy, if given the chance I’d skip the valleys.  But since we’re here, might as well look around and enjoy the view.  I couldn’t ask for more.