There are times in life when we stumble and fall. Perhaps we take a moment, steady ourselves, then get back up. Other times in life, we get knocked down.
When we hit the mat of life after a knock-out punch, as a boxer would, that’s when our God carries us.
Picture this: A family has gone somewhere, let’s say a park. A mom, dad, and child all had a blast outside until their energy has been spent.
On the drive home, the child has fallen asleep in the back seat. When they get home, the loving father opens the back door to the car, unbuckles his child, then gently moves his one arm behind her back, the other under her knees.
He draws her in close and closes the door with his leg. She stirs, but never wakes.
He carries her inside, all the way up the stairs to her bedroom. Laying her on the bed, he pulls the blanket up to her shoulders. Kissing her once more on the forehead, he leaves his child safe, to rest the night away.
This visual came to me the other day as I was driving to work.
As human beings, we’re capable of a lot. However, when we get knocked down or out, a time of recovery is necessary.
You see, we have the most perfect, loving Father ever. When we get knocked down, He doesn’t expect us to pick ourselves up on our own strength. Rather, he lovingly carries us until we’re able to stand on our own again.
I’m not referencing a bad day or even a string of them. I’m talking about being handed a blow that, in the moment, feels like it might be the end.
During what I called the longest six months of my life this past year, my husband said something to me in the middle of it. He told me that God would not leave me where I ended up, but rather that God would pick me up and place me ahead of where I was when I got knocked down.
Feeling like I was in a pit, I couldn’t imagine that to be true. I felt like I was barely worth any crumbs that fell from the table.
Now on the other side of that time, I can testify that my husband was right.
Just like the father picked up his child, carried her when she was exhausted from the day, up the stairs much farther than where she had fallen asleep, God brought me out of despair ahead of where I had previously been.
Did this have anything to do with something I had done? Did the child earn the right to be cared for or lovingly carried by her daddy? No. He carried her because she was his and she was created to be loved.
I was created to be loved. You were created to be loved, fully.
When we get knocked down or out, we’re allowed to be vulnerable and ask for help. There’s nothing for us to do but allow ourselves to be carried through the ‘night’ seasons we’re in.
When I was in the middle of it, the healing didn’t happen in one day. It took time and often I couldn’t see my way out or any light.
But I am living proof that the night ends. When I had nothing to give, my Father asked nothing of me, except to allow myself to be held, carried, and loved by Him.
“And I know the Lord will continue to rescue me from every trip, trap, snare, and pitfall of evil and carry me safely to His heavenly kingdom. May he be glorified throughout eternity. Amen.” – 2 Timothy 4:18
*Painting by Faye Hall
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