Holding their arms up so that someone taller and bigger will pick them up.
They do it for several reasons...
they want to be able to see better,
to have a better vantage point to what is going on...
They want to feel secure when they are scared and uncertain...
They want to feel better when they are hurting...
It is where they receive love, hugs, snuggles, squeezes, zerberts....
And then something eventually happens...
they begin to grow up...
they become more and more independent...
they become taller...
they become stronger...
they become more secure....
I can remember loving to sit on my Dad's lap
the tickle fights
the way he would pick me up when my little legs got tired of walking
or when I could not keep up
I can also remember the day when I didn't want to be picked up anymore
That must have broken his heart...
for his little girl to grow up and think she did not need him anymore
Now that I am all grown up...
I hate it when someone tries to pick me up,
to carry me around.
It feels awkward,
I just want to stand on my own two feet, you know?...
I have to confess that there are days
when I treat my Abba Father like my earthly Dad...
I refuse to let Him carry me,
to make me feel better,
to give me a better vantage point on what is going on around me.
I stubbornly refuse to raise my hands up,
to ask for help
When does the switch happen?
When do we lose our willingness to allow God to pick us up?
I know in my head that the most perfect way to survive a storm
is to allow my Abba Father to carry me.
And so I do,
when I am completely exhausted,
when I have used up all of my own moves
and find that I have nothing left.
But the question is, why do I do that?
Why does it take getting all the way to the end of myself
to raise my hands up and beg to be carried?
The answer is so simple
the more I know my Savior
the deeper I go to understand His ways
the quicker I will raise my hands
When I run to Him as the last resort
when I am spent
although He welcomes me
I miss out on the fullness of who He is
I waste so much time when I try to raise myself up,
when I look for higher ground all by my little old self.
How long will it take to learn this lesson?
How long does it take to step back
to the days when as a child
it felt so easy to request a lift
from someone bigger and stronger than myself?
No matter how awkward or silly I may feel
asking my Abba Father to carry me
This I know...
I will never get too old
I will never be too big
And He will never be
to pick me up and carry me.
Psalm 91 (The Message)
You who sit down in the High God's presence,
spend the night in Shaddai's shadow,
Say this: "God, you are my refuge.
I trust in you and I am safe!"
That is right--He rescues you from hidden traps,
shields you from deadly hazards.
His huge outstretched arms protect you--
under them you are perfectly safe;
His arms fend off all harm.
Fear nothing--not wild wolves in the night,
not flying arrows in the day,
Not disease that prowls through the darkness,
not disaster that erupts at high noon.
Even though others succumb all around,
drop like flies right and left,
no harm will even graze you.
You will stand untouched, watch it all from a distance,
watch the wicked turn into corpses.
Yes, because God's your refuge,
the High God your very own home,
Evil can not get close to you,
harm can not get through the door.
He ordered His angels
to guard you wherever you go.
If you stumble, they will catch you;
their job is to keep you from falling.
You will walk unharmed among lions and snakes,
and kick young lions and serpents from the path.
"If you will hold on to Me for dear life," says God,
"I will get you out of any trouble.
I will give you the best of care
if you will only get to know and trust Me.
Call Me and I will answer, be at your side in bad times;
I will rescue you, then throw you a party.
I will give you a long life,
give you a long drink of salvation!"