Category: Christian Allegory

Held Back?

Posted on by S. J. Little
A lonely stroller with the title Held Back?

 

The other day, my husband and I went for a walk with our little one. The skies were clear and it was an exceptionally warm spring day.

As we approached a steep hill, we strapped our little one into her stroller.

With my husband handling the stroller, we began the descent, thankful for the well-paved path.

My husband, being much taller than I am, let the incline carry him faster and faster. I hastened to keep up.

I laughed. “You and your long legs. You can go so much faster than me.”

Slowing so I could keep up, my husband replied, “Our little one could go faster than either of us if I let her.”

I glanced down the rest of the hill. He was right. If allowed to, the stroller, with our little one in it, had the potential to gain tremendous speed. That is, until it reached the first bend in the path and toppled.

I wasn’t worried. I knew my husband and his deep desire for our daughter to have the best. I knew he would protect her from such a traumatic accident.

“I’m glad you don’t let her reach her full potential,” I replied lightly.

How ironic. Typically we want our children to reach their full potential, but here my husband was holding our daughter back and I was glad.

That got me thinking. Sometimes I feel stuck – like I’m chomping at the bit – unable to reach my full potential.

Could it be that God, my Father, is the one holding me back? Could His plans be different than mine?

The Bible says:

“As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are My ways higher than your ways

and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

(Isaiah 55:9 NIV)

Do I really believe God knows better than me?

Sometimes I feel stifled in my growth and in what I am able to do. If I were a full-time writer, just think how many books I could produce! However, most of my time is spent caring for my family and keeping house. These are very good things, and I typically enjoy them. Yet they hold me back from what could be my full potential in a different set of circumstances.

Don’t get me wrong. There is a time to change things up. A season to put some things aside so I can focus more on what God would have me pursue at that time.

There is also a time to embrace where God has put me now and learn to thrive in it.  Like a plant flourishing where it is planted, not pining to be transplanted or let loose.

How do I respond when I feel held back from what I believe to be my full potential? Do I pout and mope? Do I dare to criticize God? Or do I take my frustration straight to God, telling Him how I feel, then trusting that He knows best? 

If He wants me to do more, He will give me what I need for it when the time is right. I am thankful God is patient with me every time I forget this.

Indeed, there may be a time when it is good for my daughter to move at tremendous speeds – such as when her daddy teaches her to drive. Such speeds are beyond her one-year-old comprehension. That day in the stroller, to go zooming off down the path would have ended badly. It was beyond her ability to handle that speed in that circumstance. Her daddy understood this so he held her back.

God understands what is beyond my ability to handle right now. His holding me back from what I believe to be my full potential is because He knows best. He knows my true potential.

But, wait. Is this a Biblical principle? I’m glad you asked. Here are some examples of people in the Bible whom, I suspect, felt God was holding them back from their full potential, or at least from the life they felt called to or desired. Let me know in the comments if you agree.

David was a shepherd boy – a nobody. One day a prophet anointed David telling him that he would be the next king. At some point after that, David became a servant of the current king, Saul. Then things turned nasty. King Saul tried to kill David. For years David was running for his life. During that time, do you think David ever felt held back from his full potential – the thing God had called him to? Yet it was more than 10 years between the time God called him and when he finally became king. (1 Samuel 16 – 2 Samuel 5)

The demon-possessed man Jesus healed in Luke 8 also comes to mind. He wanted to follow Jesus.

“The man from whom the demons had gone out begged to go with Him, but Jesus sent him away, saying, ‘Return home and tell how much God has done for you.’ So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.” (Luke 8:38-39 NIV) 

Finally, I think of the Apostle Paul. Something was holding him back from what he felt was his full potential. Bible commentators vary in their speculation of what that something was. Whatever it was, it felt like a weakness – a hindrance. Paul wrote about it in 2 Corinthians 12:7b-9:

“I was given a thorn in my flesh… Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (NIV)

Today, in the midst of a culture urging me to push harder and reach bigger, may I rest in the fact that God knows what He is doing. His timing is perfect. May I thrive in this season right now.

As the well-known proverb puts it:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

and do not rely on your own understanding;

in all your ways know Him,

and He will make your paths straight.”

Proverbs 3:5-6 (CSB)

Have you been running too hard recently? Do you need a reminder that it is okay to prioritize in this season of your life? I recently listened to a fantastic podcast on that very topic. I encourage you to listen in:
https://www.authormedia.com/why-saying-no-is-crucial-for-publishing-success-a-pruning-story/ 

When Things Get Smokey

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

My phone beeps. There is a poor air quality alert for my area.

As I sit at my desk while my baby naps, I glance outside. I cannot see the blue sky. The sun is a weird shade of yellow casting a red glow on the floor.

My eyes wander to the other side of the valley where normally I would see green trees and a myriad of colours from the buildings. Everything is grey and faded.

I turn back to my computer. I only have so much time before my baby wakes up. I’ve got to make use of the time.

I pull up the email I’m working on.

A few minutes later, I glance up. The whole sky has dimmed to an orange fog. The speck of bright light which must be the sun is pumpkin orange. I cannot see the other side of the valley. I feel heavy inside and my fight-or-flight system considers kicking in.

I catch a whiff of smoke. I typically don’t mind the smell as it reminds me of many happy times around a campfire, but when the smoke is everywhere… I frown, hoping the windows will keep most of it out.

Trying to focus, I drag my gaze back to my computer screen, but that unsettling orange glow keeps drawing my attention back to the window.

I pray for the firefighters who are working to contain the fire, then remind myself that there is nothing more I can do right now. The forest fire is miles away. I would have to drive more than 500 km (~300 miles) to get there.

Right now, I need to focus on my task.

I turn to my computer. “Okay, I’ve just got to do the next thing. What is the one thing I need to do next?”

I need to look up some numbers to include in my email.

Okay, I can do that.

Done.

My eyes wander to the window. I may as well be living on Mars. That’s how orange it looks just now.

I glance at the baby monitor on my desk. She’s still asleep. I’ve got to keep working.

“Do the next thing.”

What’s the next thing?

Find the email addresses I’m sending this email to.

Okay, I can do that.

It takes me a few moments to locate the list. I notice I need to add a few more addresses. I do that.

I glance out the window. Still orange. So weird. Nearly spooky. It makes me feel anxious.

But I’ve got to do the next thing.

What’s the next thing?

Write a subject for the email.

Okay, I can do that.

After a few attempts, I am happy with the subject line.

I reach for my phone and move to the window. I switch to my camera and take several pictures. I want to capture the feel of it, but the camera simply won’t do justice to the strength of the orange outside.

I give up. Back at my desk, I remind myself, my baby could wake up any time now. I’ve got to do the next thing.

Proofread my email.

Okay, I can do that.

I read it aloud, tweaking some words as I go. At last, I am satisfied and hit send.

Leaning back in my chair, I peer out the window. Is it just me, or is the orange beginning to fade?

Oh, look! I can see some of the buildings across the valley. Certainly not in full colour, but the dim outlines are back.

I crane my neck to locate the sun. It appears somewhat, almost, yellow-ish again.

A hint of the weight inside me lightens. Perhaps, just maybe, the blue sky will be visible again and the sun will shine its happy yellow.

It might take a few days, but I know the sky is blue and I will not give up hope that I will see that blue again.

Why share this story? Because it holds a valuable reminder for me.

Sometimes life gets smokey when something creates smoke which comes in and blocks our vision. That something may be close to home and personal, or perhaps far bigger but further away.

Much of the time, there is nothing we can do to stop that smoke until the source fire is dealt with.

At this moment, I can pray, but beyond that there is nothing I can do to stop those forest fires. I am helpless to stop the smoke from crowding into my life.

The smoke makes it hard to see and hard to breathe. I cannot see the happy blue sky and yellow sun. Everything looks grey and stinks.

Sometimes life feels like that.

What should I do then?

Pray.

Trust that God is still God.

And do the next thing.

Perhaps you have heard of Elisabeth Elliot? I learned the concept of “do the next thing” from listening to her teaching. (Here is a link to her teaching)

Elisabeth Elliot was a missionary. Not long into her time of ministry, her husband, Jim Elliot, was murdered by the very people they had been trying to reach in love.

Elisabeth was left in a foreign country with a young baby. Later she was able to befriend and minister to the very people who killed her husband.

Many years later, Elisabeth remarried only to watch her new husband get sick and die.

Elizabeth has written many books, my favourite being “Through Gates of Splendor”.

Elisabeth Elliot once wrote:

“‘Do the next thing.’ I don’t know any simpler formula for peace, for relief from stress and anxiety than that very practical, very down-to-earth word of wisdom. Do the next thing. That has gotten me through more agonies than anything else I could recommend.” ― Elisabeth Elliot, Suffering Is Never for Nothing

This sounds like a wise principle, but where do we see it in the Bible?

I’m glad you asked.

Joseph is one example of this mindset being lived out.

What did he do when his brothers sold him into slavery? Did he protest and fight against those around him? No. He did the next thing.

When he was thrown into prison unjustly, did he sit in the corner pouting? No. He did the next thing.

As a foreign slave turned prisoner turned second-in-command over the entire country, did Joseph become paralyzed by the grandness of it all? No. He did the next thing.

I like Psalm 37:34a: “Wait for the Lord and keep His way…” (NASB)

Joseph was waiting for God’s deliverance, but in the meantime, he lived according to God’s ways while he did one next thing after another.

The next time I find my life smothered in smoke, may I remain diligent to do the next thing while I wait for the smoke to clear.

Tapestry

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

This week I’m taking a break from sharing allegories from my own life. Instead, I’m sharing an allegory Corrie ten Boom often spoke of.

(Note that while tapestries and embroideries are different based on the methods used, I use both terms interchangeably in this post.)

Have you heard of Corrie ten Boom? If not, let me fill you in.

Corrie ten Boom was a Christian and a Dutch watchmaker. When the Nazis invaded the Netherlands, Corrie and her family became involved in helping hide the Jews.

Eventually, the Nazis caught on and arrested Corrie, her sister, Betsie, and their elderly father. Her father died 10 days later.

Corrie and Betsie were sent to Ravensbruck – a brutal concentration camp. They were forced to work hard, given little to eat, and abused. Betsie died there, but Corrie miraculously was released.

After the war, Corrie travelled the world sharing her story and her faith in God.

If you want to learn more, I highly recommend reading her biography: The Hiding Place.

Okay. Now that you know who Corrie ten Boom was and understand that she endured greater hardship than many of us can imagine, let me share an allegory she often told.

When speaking, Corrie would hold up a cloth with a jumble of dark and light threads that were all haphazard and unruly.

Holding the cloth for all to see, Corrie would explain how that cloth represented what we can see of our life. Our lives look jumbled and often the dark seasons we endure (like the dark threads) make no sense.

Then she would turn the cloth around revealing an intricately embroidered crown. She would explain that God sees this side of the cloth and one day will reveal it to us. 

Those dark threads, or dark seasons of our lives, make no sense right now but one day we’ll see what God was up to. The dark threads are necessary to make the whole embroidery stunningly beautiful.

The night before His crucifixion, Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 NIV

In closing, let me leave you with a poem Corrie ten Boom often quoted to capture this allegory.

Life is But a Weaving (The Tapestry Poem)

By Grant Tuller

 

My life is but a weaving

Between my God and me.

I cannot choose the colors

He weaveth steadily.

 

Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;

And I in foolish pride

Forget He sees the upper

And I the underside.

 

Not ’til the loom is silent

And the shuttles cease to fly

Will God unroll the canvas

And reveal the reason why.

 

The dark threads are as needful

In the weaver’s skillful hand

As the threads of gold and silver

In the pattern He has planned.

 

He knows, He loves, He cares;

Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives the very best to those

Who leave the choice to Him.

Is Jesus My Teddy Bear?

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

I set my baby on her feet. “There, you’ve got your pyjamas on. Now it’s time for your sleep sack.”

I fetch her sleep sack – a wearable blanket to keep her warm at night.

She begins to fuss.

Scooping her up I slide her arms into the sleep sack then do up the zipper.

“I know you don’t like going to bed, but you’re tired and it’s nighttime.”

Her fussing increases and switches to a repeated word. “Bear Bear. Bear Bear. Bear Bear.”

I glance around the room. “I don’t know where Bear Bear is, but we can go find him.”

My baby in my arms, we hunt for her favourite teddy bear.

At length we find him in the kitchen.

“There’s Bear Bear.”

I lower her so she can pick up the teddy bear.

She does, clutching him to herself and relaxing. “Bear Bear.”

I cuddle her close. “You like Bear Bear a lot.”

A few minutes later, I place her in her crib. She clings to her teddy bear and cries.

“Goodnight.” I say, “Have a good sleep.”

I close the door and fetch the baby monitor.

Watching the video feed on the little screen, I observe her hugging the bear close. When she stops crying and lies down, she still has the bear securely in her grip.

She croons, “Bear Bear,” before falling asleep.

The following morning, when I go to lift my baby out of her crib, her first words are not a greeting for me. No, something else is on her mind.

“Bear Bear. Bear Bear.”

I lower her back into the crib so she can grab the teddy bear whom she had let go of at some point during the night.

She hugs him close. “Ahh… Bear Bear.”

Now she’s ready to begin her day.

When I set her down in the living room to play, she drops her bear on the floor and reaches for a ball.

That’s where Bear Bear is likely to spend most of his morning until naptime when she seeks him out again.

Recently, observing my baby’s interaction with her teddy bear left me pondering the question “Is Jesus my teddy bear?”

Let me explain.

Bear Bear is one of my daughter’s favorite toys. His name is one of the few words she can say. He is her lovey – the toy she seeks out for comfort at bedtime.

Do I seek God when I need comfort?

When trouble comes (such as bedtime for my baby) do I run to Jesus for help?

If so, good.

Seeking God in times of trouble is good and right. He is the One who is almighty and in control. Certainly I should seek Him when I need comfort.

As the Psalmist writes, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in You. In God, whose word I praise – in God I trust and am not afraid” (Psalm 56:3-4a NIV).

The next question is: How do I treat God when things are good?

Do I follow my baby’s example of leaving her teddy bear abandoned on the floor?

Her teddy bear could get stepped on or lost, but she is heedless of these risks. She forgets about Bear Bear until the next crisis comes.

Do I forget about God when life is going well? Does He disappear from my thoughts and my life as soon as trouble fades?

Stating that my baby never plays with her bear except at bedtime is an overstatement.

Occasionally she spots him laying haphazardly on the floor and is reminded of her great affection for him. She will toddle over to him and pick him up to play for a few minutes until the next toy catches her fancy.

Also, if someone happens to mention “teddy bear” she will be reminded of her precious “Bear Bear” and will desire to have him. She will look for him and cry if she cannot find him.

What about me? When life is good, do I only think about God if someone mentions Him or if I stumble across some other reminder of Him?

I hope I treat God better than that.

God doesn’t want to just be my rescue when trouble comes.

Don’t get me wrong. It is good to run to Him when need arises. Yet God wants to be so much more than that to me. God wants to be at the centre of my life whether my days are happy or troubled.

God wants me to acknowledge Him in all my ways (Proverbs 3:6). God wants everything I do to be done for Him (Colossians 3:23). He wants me to always be giving thanks to Him (Ephesians 5:20).

That sounds like a lot more than only seeking Jesus when the going gets hard.

This week, may Jesus be more than just my teddy bear. May I not forget Him when the going is easy, but rather, may I walk closely with Him now and always.

May my prayer be the words of the song, Be The Centre:

[Jesus], be the fire in my heart.
Be the wind in these sails.
Be the reason that I live.

Learning to Walk by Faith

Posted on by S. J. Little
Toddler learning to walk behind title: Learning to Walk by Faith

 

The Bible tells us that we are to walk by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). Do Christians instantly master walking by faith the moment they meet Jesus, or is it a process?

I’ve been watching my baby learn to walk recently. It’s been quite intriguing. Let me tell you what I mean.

—*—

“Can you do it? Can you walk to Mommy?”

Squatting across from my baby, I coax her to take a step. My husband holds her just out of my arm’s reach.

Will this be the moment?

I look at my husband. “Do you think she can do it?”

She’s been doing all the right things. She loves strolling the hallway holding my fingers. Recently she’s gained confidence in holding onto only one finger. She’s been getting so much more stable. Surely she can do it. Surely this will be the moment.

“Come on, girl. You can do it. Come to Mama.”

Clinging to her dad’s hand, my little one steps toward me as far as she can.

I shift back leaving a foot-long gap.

“Come on. You gotta let go to walk to Mama.”

But that’s scary. She doesn’t want to let go. She might fall.

She whines a little, reaching for me, but not wanting to let go.

Then she does it. She lets go and takes two steps before plunging headfirst toward me.

I catch her in time.

We cheer. She beams her biggest smile.

I turn her around.

“Now walk to Daddy. You can do it.”

She takes a deep breath.

Clinging to my finger, she walks to the very edge of my reach.

Then she does it. She lets go, takes two steps, and plunges headfirst toward her daddy.

He catches her.

We celebrate again.

My baby is walking! How exciting is that?!

—*—

The next few days I watched for her to initiate walking on her own. She didn’t.

I was surprised. I thought a baby who could walk would, well, walk.

It wasn’t until, a couple of evenings later, when my husband and I sat across the living room from each other urging her to walk between us that she walked by herself again.

This time, she went a little farther. Still, she only dared walk if one of us was there to catch her.

So many people had told me that as soon as she learned to walk she’d be running around with me chasing behind.

I subconsciously concluded that as soon as she took those first steps, it would be as though a light turned on and then within hours, or maybe minutes, she would be toddling all over. I was wrong.

For the first week, she could barely take more than 3 steps before toppling headlong. Gradually, with practice, she increased the number of steps she could take.

For what seemed a long time, she only walked if a person or soft couch was her destination – something safe to catch her fall.

It was more than two weeks after those first steps before she dared venture into the middle of the room by herself where she immediately plopped down to play with a toy.

It has been fun watching her ability and confidence grow. Both are needed to walk well.

Likewise, learning to walk by faith is a process. It does not happen overnight. To start, I must take those terrifying first steps. Then I must practice taking just a few unsteady steps again and again.

Some days I might get discouraged when I notice I am walking by sight rather than by faith. I must not let that trap me in defeat. With God’s help, I must get back up and try to walk by faith again.

Gradually my ability and confidence will increase as I place my confidence not in myself, but in my God. (2 Corinthians 3:4-5)

It takes time and persistent practice to grow in my ability to walk by faith. If my baby gave up practicing walking and simply crawled everywhere, she would never learn to walk.

I must allow myself to try again even when I fall and get a bump.

Today, may I not give up, but rather, with God’s help, may I be persistent in practicing walking by faith.