My 3 year old daughter ducked into the large cardboard box sitting in our living room.

We had transformed it into a simple house by setting it on its side to use the top flaps as doors. Additionally, on one side, we cut a small window, leaving a flap that could open and close. On the other side, we added a small side door.

She pushed the window flap open and peeked out.

My 1 year old son saw her peeking and laughed. He pointed at her as he toddled over.

Crouching, he entered the box.

My daughter vacated through the side door.

Circling to the other side, she peeked in the window making them both laugh.

My son gripped the bottom of the window and began leaning against the side of the box as their game of peek-a-boo continued.

Sitting nearby, I noticed his leaning was beginning to tip the whole box.

Reaching out, I held tight to the opposite side of the box as he leaned even further.

I felt the pull of the box. It would have tipped had I not been stabilizing it.

My son, however, was blissfully unaware of my rescue as he laughed and peeked out the window at my daughter again.

I glanced over at my husband who sat nearby and had observed the whole thing, saying, “He has no idea someone is holding him up.”

What about me? Do I know that Someone is holding me up? Do I acknowledge and thank Him? Or do I assume it is my own efforts holding me up?

Throughout the Bible, we see God taking care of His people again and again. Sometimes it is blatantly obvious to the people involved, sometimes it is not.

Perhaps Psalm 23 is one of the most beautiful passages depicting this.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for His name’s sake.

 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff,

they comfort me.

 

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

(Psalm 23 ESV)

God is taking care of me in the same way a shepherd cares for their sheep.

I need not worry. God is holding me up.

Does that mean my life will be trouble-free and easy? Not at all.

The following evening, as my son was again peeking out the window. He leaned against the side in the same fashion as the story above.

This time, however, I was not holding onto the box.

Over it tipped, with my 1 year old inside.

He cried as I helped him crawl out, though I suspect his tears were more from the scare than from pain.

Later, I observed him peeking out the window a third time. This time he felt the box begin to shift and pulled back from leaning on it.

He glanced at me for reassurance.

I applauded his discernment and quick learning. He has not tipped it over again.

Often in life, when hardships happen, they are not a specific result of my actions. Sometimes, however, they are a direct consequence of something I have done (like for my 1 year old in the story).

Sometimes God protects me from the consequences of my actions. Sometimes He does not.

Regardless of the cause, when I face trials, God wants to be at work in me. He wants me to be learning and growing.

If, like my 1 year old, the trial is a result of my own foolishness, God wants me to learn better wisdom and discernment.

If the trouble is not because of something I have done, God still wants to be working in me.

That is why James says:

“Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.” (James 1:2-4 CSB)

Am I facing great difficulties today? May I press into Jesus knowing that as I do so, He will be working to transform me from the inside out. He is holding me up.

Am I in a peaceful and seemingly easy season of life right now? May I be intentional to pursue Jesus, growing in knowledge of the truth and in healthy Biblical habits, not forgetting to thank and praise Him. He is holding me up.

Have you memorized Psalm 23? If not, I urge you to do so. Here’s a great song, by Zac Fitzsimmons, to help you memorize the chapter. You can watch it below or find it on Spotify here.

 

 

I cradled my recently turned 1-year-old in my arms. He snuggled in, sleepy and content to be held.

Looking into his big blue eyes, I couldn’t help but marvel at his willingness to rest in trust.

You see, this little boy has recently learned to walk. Now he walks everywhere. He loves his new freedom.

He walks and walks, stops to play, then walks some more. I jokingly say, “He has no time to sit still. He’s got to move!”

He is also beginning to understand words and communicates by pointing, nodding, and saying, “more, more.”

I’ve started referring to him as a toddler rather than a baby.

Yet in that moment, as I sang him a lullaby, he seemed so much like a baby. His simple peaceful trust that I would take care of him was worth marveling at.

As I took a step toward his crib, his eyes shifted to the ceiling. He watched calmly as I carried him past the light and a door frame.

He let me lower him onto his back in the crib.

There was no fear, no fight for control in his gaze as he studied my face.

As I headed back downstairs, I found myself imagining my response if someone were to carry me. 

My stomach clenched at the thought of feeling so utterly out-of-control when being carried on my back, unable to look anywhere but at the ceiling. The anxiety that would grab at me if I couldn’t control where I was going or even adjust for better balance would be near overwhelming.

My little one doesn’t always rest so peacefully. He is currently in a phase of clinging to mommy. Only a handful of people have gained enough trust for him to rest in their arms.

Even in his babylike trust, who is holding him is the key.

What about me? Do I have that babylike trust in God my Father? Or have I become so accustomed to independence and having a sense of control that I refuse to rest in His arms?

In this area, I need to go backwards in development, back to that childlike dependence on my Heavenly Father.

This is not easy.

When I feel out of control, I want to fight for all I am worth to get that control back.

Yet I am never truly in control in the first place regardless of how I might feel. I cannot control the weather, how other people think and act, or many aspects of my health.

God is in control.

Not only is He in control now, but He sees the big picture. He knows what the future holds and He is interested in more than just my temporary pleasure for today.

Along with that, knowing God is loving and good is reason enough for me to seek to rest in His arms.

At all times, but especially when I feel out of control and helpless, may I lean into His loving arms and rest peacefully there.

Isaiah reminds me that God carries His children. Having just discussed how people worshipping false gods in that day literally carried their gods, Isaiah stated:

 

“Listen to Me, … you whom I have upheld since your birth,

    and have carried since you were born.

Even to your old age and gray hairs

    I am He, I am He who will sustain you.

I have made you and I will carry you;

    I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

Isaiah 46:3-4 NIV

 

Experiencing peaceful rest in God’s arms is not necessarily a lack of action, but a heart condition.

On the outside, sometimes resting in His arms will be sitting and waiting. Sometimes it will be active and hard work.

Regardless, may I learn to rest my heart in His arms, trusting that He is good, loving, and in control.

 

As I close, I encourage you to take a moment to listen to this well-loved hymn: Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.

 

 

“Mommy, you be the librarian,” my 2 year old urged as she handed me a book.

I paused in the midst of clearing the breakfast table to “check-in” the book and put it away.

A few minutes later, she returned to the kitchen with a basket brimming with picture books from the shelf.

I set up a cardboard box librarian desk and we found a pretend library card.

“Beep,” I said as I scanned the library card.

“Beep,” I scanned the first book.

“Beep, beep, beep…”

I handed her the pile of 13 books. “Here you are. Have a nice day.”

I turned my attention back to clearing the table while she loaded the books to go home.

A few moments later, frustrated grunts drew my attention back to my daughter.

She was trying to put her backpack on. It looked very heavy.

“Do you need some help?” I asked.

“Yes! I can’t get it on.”

I helped her slide the second strap onto her shoulder.

“There. That’s a very heavy backpack. Did you put the books in it?”

Obviously she had.

She groaned. “Owe. My shoulders.”

“You might want to take some of the books out.”

“No. Owe. My shoulders.”

She slung the backpack to the floor.

I stooped, reaching for the zipper. “Here. Let me help.”

I removed all but 5 of the books.

“It’s still pretty heavy, but I think you can carry it now.”

“No! I want all the books.”

I handed her the backpack. “Let’s leave out the heavy ones. Otherwise it’s too heavy.”

“No.” She knelt determinedly beside the backpack and squeezed all the books back in.

She rose, struggling to put it back on.

“It’s too heavy!”

I sighed. “There is nothing I can do to help if you don’t take some books out.”

That got me thinking…

Do I have a mental backpack I have loaded up and am trying to lug around?

Is God looking at me saying, “If you would just let Me help, I would lighten your load”?

In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus said,

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (NIV)

How wonderful it is that Jesus offers me rest from being weary and burdened!

Am I experiencing that rest? Or is my stubborn self-reliance getting in the way of my receiving that rest?

My daughter’s behaviour exemplifies this so clearly.

She was determined to stuff her backpack full of books and then carry it. The backpack was far heavier than she could reasonably carry.

I wanted to help her. I wanted to lighten her load. In fact, I did step in to take some of the weight out of the backpack.

Yet what did she do? She immediately put those books right back into the backpack. She wanted to carry the full load.

Before I shake my head at my little one’s stubborn relentlessness, I need to pause and look at my own life.

Am I experiencing the rest Jesus is offering me? Or have I taken on far more than I was meant to carry?

Is Jesus pleading with me to hand over my burden to Him?

In 1 Peter 5:7 I am urged to be “casting all [my] cares on Him, because He cares about [me].” (CSB)

That is an on-going action, not “I did it once in the past and now I’m set.”

I must continue casting my cares on Jesus daily… hourly.

Am I living this out as I ought? No. I have a long ways to grow in this area.

That said, will you join me today in asking God if there is any burden you are carrying that He wants to help you to put down?

Then get up, go about your day, and wait to see what He will say to you as you continue to seek Him through the Bible, prayer, and fellowship with other Christians.

I will do the same.

 

“Would you like some juice?” I asked.

“Yes,” my toddler replied from where she lay sick with a fever on the couch.

I fetched the little cup with a built-in straw from the fridge. It had a valve in the straw enabling me to tip it upside down without spilling. Surely it would be okay in the living room.

I set it beside my toddler, then scooped up my baby from where he stood leaning against the couch.

“I have to put your brother down for his nap. I’ll be back in a minute or two.”

My toddler took a sip of juice. “Okay.”

In the bedroom, I proceeded with my baby’s bedtime routine: drink water, put on sleep sack, read story, bounce while singing the “Prayer For My Child” song, then into his crib.

That done, I returned to the living room.

That was when I saw it. Beside my toddler, who was still on the couch where I had left her, was the straw cup. The cup rested on its side.

As I approached, one drip escaped.

Remaining calm, I quickly scooped up the cup.

Apparently, more than one drip had escaped.

There, on the couch, was a wet spot as large as the palm of my hand. I had only been gone a few short minutes.

Fetching a clean cloth, I pressed the drenched spot to absorb as much liquid out of it as possible, but it was a lost cause.

Giving up, I sighed. At least it was just watered-down apple juice on a brown couch.

A short while later, when I had a chance to lie down for a few minutes because I was sick with the same bug, it occurred to me that my actions are like that cup.

I thought the straw cup was a safe one to use in the living room because it didn’t spill, even when turned upside down. However, given enough time, one drip escapes. Then another drip escapes.

Before long, those slow but steady drips create a sizable spill.

My actions are like that. I may think they are inconsequential or “safe”, but, if I continue in them, they create a notable impact.

One small action after another, after another, after another… That’s how big impacts are made, whether for good or for evil.

Next time I am about to do something I believe is unimpactful, I would be wise to pause and consider the outcome. Will it lead to what is helpful or what is harmful?

In Galatians 6:7-8, I read:

“Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.” (NIV)

The following verse holds valuable encouragement.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9 NIV

Lord, please help me be intentional to do what will lead to good for me and for those around me.

 

I set my baby on the kitchen floor and opened the fridge to get the leftover containers out for lunch.

“He’s getting so good at belly crawling,” I commented to my 2-year-old. “Pretty soon he’ll be up on his hands and knees doing proper crawling.”

I fetched a serving spoon and began putting food on our plates.

I turned to my 2-year-old. “Do you want your food warm or cold?”

She glanced at the table from where she was on the floor, busy building with magnetic blocks. “Cold.”

I glanced at my baby who had lost interest in the blue car he had been playing with and was now making his way across the kitchen floor.

I put my plate of food in the microwave and turned it on.

I filled our water glasses, then looked over at my baby again. He was studying the wall. Perhaps he liked the texture of the paint?

Hearing the microwave beep, I turned to retrieve my food.

When I glanced back at him, he was just reaching the furnace vent in the floor.

“Careful,” I warned him, “that could have sharp parts.”

Of course, he didn’t understand me. He continued touching the vent.

I set my hot food on the table and headed in his direction.

Then, to my disgust, I saw him put his head down on the floor vent and lick the metal grate.

“No, no,” I said, scooping him up. “We don’t lick floor vents.”

As I carried him towards the table, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye.

My 2-year-old had left her blocks and was crawling. She was making a beeline for the very vent I’d just pulled my baby away from.

With a giggle, she licked the floor vent.

This incident is one of the more memorable times my 2-year-old copied my baby. She’d never thought to lick a floor vent before, but here she was doing it because her baby brother decided to give it a try.

There have been many other times my 2-year-old has desired to mimic our baby. She has wanted to be carried more. She has reverted to requesting to be spoon-fed. If I give my baby a biting toy, she wants one too.

In truth, such desires to be more “baby-like” are common in toddlers who have a new baby in the house. Indeed, even in the area of potty training, many fully trained toddlers have gone back to diapers when the new baby arrives.

Why share this story? Because I am similar to my daughter. Whether I realize it or not, I mimic those around me.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, unless I mimic those who set foolish or harmful examples.

In my walk with God, I am to be growing towards maturity (Heb. 5:11-14, James 1:4).

Likewise, my toddler is supposed to be growing in ability and intelligence.

When she mimics her baby brother, she is going backwards in her development. She is becoming more baby-like.

So who am I mimicking?

Are they influencing me towards maturity in Jesus, or away from it?

It’s worth taking time to consider the influence of my family, friends, and church leaders.

I like how it is put in Hebrews 13:7 – “Remember your leaders who have spoken God’s word to you. As you carefully observe the outcome of their lives, imitate their faith.” (CSB)

On top of that, which authors/influencers/musicians am I listening to? What influence do they have on me?

If, when I look around, it seems no one is influencing me towards a deeper relationship with Jesus, it may be time to make some changes.

One of those changes could simply be reading a biography of a Christian who had a deep personal relationship with Jesus.

My favourites include:

  • Through Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot
  • Hudson Taylor’s Spiritual Secret by  Dr. Howard Taylor
  • Seeking Allah Finding Jesus by Nabeel Qureshi

I was recently reminded of the encouragement podcasts can give when I listened to “Women Worth Knowing” by Cheryl Broderson and Robin Jones Gunn, “Enduring Words” by David Guzik, and “Laugh Again” by Phil Callaway.

Ultimately it is Jesus whose example I am to follow.

All these other examples ought to point me towards Him. As Paul put it: “Imitate me, as I also imitate Christ.” (1 Corinthians 11:1 CSB)

Being intentional to keep times of prayer and Bible reading in my daily life is critical for this.

As I go forward, may I be aware of how I am being influenced. May I be intentional to seek out those who would influence me towards Jesus. May I grow towards maturity in my walk with Jesus.