Of tunnels, a journey, and roller skates

“I turn to wisdom not my own
For every battle You have known.
My confidence will rest in You;
Your love endures; Your ways are good.
When I am weary with the cost,
I see the triumph of the cross;
So in its shadow I shall run
Till He completes the work begun.”

~ When Trials Come
by Keith and Kristyn Getty

Do you ever feel so exhausted that you wonder how you are ever going to keep putting one foot in front of the other?  The pathway seems so dark and rough, and the journey seems so long . . . . what you really want to do is just lay down and take a nap.  Well, sometimes that might be just what the dr. ordered.  But there are other times when you are weary, completely worn out, and you want to give up, but if you just take one more step, and then another, one at a time, eventually you will realize that you are beginning to see the light.  You know, the proverbial "light at the end of the tunnel," but in this case it is NOT a train coming straight at you!  This Light is the gift of God's love, mercy, and grace shining brightly in the distance of our journey.  He is there, just waiting for you to take that next step. 

When we lived in Colorado, there were several tunnels that we would drive through when we went down the mountain to Denver, and there was a really LONG tunnel we had to drive through if we decided to go up, over the top of the mountain to our west.  That one was kind of scary, for me because I can be kind of claustrophobic.  The shorter ones didn't bother me because I could see the other end when we entered.  But that long one . . . .  there were several turns (not exactly switchbacks, but winding) making it impossible to see how far it was until we got to the other end and the relief of seeing the sky again.  I remember thinking, "What would happen if there was a crash in here and a fire or explosion?"  Well, I guess I could figure out what would happen if there was an explosion . . . . but what if there was a crash, or what if part of the "roof" of the tunnel fell in?  And I couldn't get out? 

That actually felt more frightening to me than the thought of a crash.  If I couldn't get out of the enclosed space, and it was dark, and my babies were terrified - what would I do?  I have no clue, and fortunately I never had to figure it out.  At least, not yet.  But it reminded me of all the times that we are in that "dark place' of fear and uncertainty.  When we are completely exhausted from doing all that we know to do, all that we believe God would have us do, or even when we are weary from going the wrong way through the tunnel of life. . . . what can we do?  Give up.  That's one option. 

But probably not a very good one, because if you ever hope to get out the other side of that tunnel, you really do just have to keep moving.  It is kind of like riding a bike.  When a kid is just learning to ride a bike, it is a tricky balancing act to keep the bike moving and not tip over.  But the truth is that a bike is much easier to steer, and get it to go in the right direction (such as away from running head-long into a tree) if it is moving.  We have to keep moving, BUT we also have to keep our eyes on the goal.  We have to stay focused on the Source of our strength that will enable us to "just keep moving."

We've been taking the girls roller skating, and they are really doing great.  But Annie still tends to turn that left foot in, tip it down (which helps her stop, and that's a good thing!), and then she ends up tripping herself when she tries to move her other foot forward.  Now I know that is because of her CP, which only affects her left side, but it is rather frustrating to her when the other kids are beginning to cruise around the skating rink without holding on to the side rail.  So the other day, we worked on that annoying little problem.

I took her by the arm, and walking along side of her, I kept saying, "Chin up!  Look straight ahead!  Keep moving!  One foot in front of the other! Don't tip that left foot down!"   I know, I am a rather naggy, persistent mother, but I guess that's her lot in life    ;o)    And we would go down the practice lane, from the trash can to the end of the railing, and then turn around and go back.  "Chin up!  Shoulders back!  Keep moving!  Look down there!  One foot in front of the other!" 

Occasionally she would trip both of us, or smoosh my foot, or lean too far back and her skates would go whoosh! out from under her and down she would go.  Eventually, I started stepping away from her, and walk backwards with my hands out to her but not touching her.  She would reach out her hands towards me, and I kept saying, "Look at me!  Keep your eyes right on Mama!"  Before long, she was skating all by herself, tentatively and timidly to be sure, with that left hand reaching out for me.  Occasionally that left foot would still drop and turn in, and she would wobble back and forth for a second, but she was beginning to correct her balance when she started to tip over.  We can't wait to go back to the skating rink on Saturday afternoon! 

That's how life is sometimes . . . . I just have to keep my eyes focused straight ahead, on the Cross, and know that I am never alone.  He is always there reminding me to keep my chin up, keep moving and put one foot in front of the other.  Every day I am getting better at keeping my balance and maneuvering those obstacles that might tip me over.  Just like Annie is going to be amazing at roller skating!  Just keep moving, and you'll be just fine, even though you might be in a dark place right now . . . . it is the shadow of the Cross.

Please visit Jennifer at "Scraps and Snippets" to find the links to the other "In Other Words" participants this week.  Then, leave a comment and a link back to you blog so we can read your perspective on this week's quote. 

Comments

[Jen]

LOVE your skating example! What a beautiful picture of our need to keep our eyes on our Savior's face to avoid stumbling. Thanks so much for sharing today!

[Nina Newton]

Hi Jen - thanks for stopping by! It is such a wonderful gift to be able to share our stories with other women who love our Lord and Saviour. Have a great Tuesday, Nina

[Claudia]

I'm far past the age of trying roller skates again, but I often say that the first step is the hardest. Sometimes, though, like you say, continuing to put one foot in front of the other is just as hard. If we can keep walking with the Lord, we can look back and marvel at how far we've come. Thank you for a great analogy.

[Denise Hughes]

Last Thanksgiving, we drove from California to Breckenridge. We went through some tunnels along the way, and I can distinctly remembering thinking the same kinds of thoughts you talked about here. Scary stuff for sure.

What a sweet skating story! So inspiring. Thank you for participating today.
Denise Hughes :)

[Tami Boesiger]

". . .if you ever hope to get out the other side of that tunnel, you really do just have to keep moving."

How true. It reminds me of something I learned from Elisabeth Elliot--"Do the next thing."

It also makes me think of Dory from Finding Nemo--"Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. . ."

Just keep moving. There's something I can remember.