A Lamp Unto My Feet

With a dozen fresh cinnamon rolls in hand, we piled out of the car to deliver them to expecting friends. The lights on their house made it very clear how to get to their front door and the side walk stretched welcoming from the driveway where each of my boys were gearing up to run to the destination. Boys are not known for careful steps, and Ivan was first one out. I was still closing my car door when I heard him scream. Aron was first to his side and even our friends heard his cries and came out to comfort. A small step hidden by the shadow of well trimmed greenery in the front of the house had caught his foot and his knee took the brunt of all of Ivan. Scraped and bleeding he was slow to comfort and as I handed the rolls off and leaned down to kiss his tears, daddy came from the other side, scooped up the whole boy, and carried him inside.

He chose the blue bandage with the verse on it, over the Spiderman bandage. Ivan always chooses God when it’s obvious. His cries subsided, we were able to laugh again and we felt the goodness of friends we were only there to say thank you to in the first place.

I can hear him up. First out of bed this morning, and I know it’s him because the second thing I heard from upstairs after his door closing, was the sound of clinking Legos. He will be fine.

We will all be fine. It struck me last night after all was settled into the commitment to sleep, how I know we are just fine. Ivan’s fall played in my mind, wishing I could have warned him, told him to take a different path, slowed him down, anything to keep him from falling. I didn’t though, and he’s fine.

A lamp unto our feet. Isn’t that what the Word offers us. It would have been nice to have that in the literal sense last night. So often I hear people wish for the light ahead, a clear idea of their destination. Yet, it isn’t where you’re going that assures a great journey, as Ivan found. He knew exactly where to go last night. He knew what path to take to get there, but he couldn’t see the little steps.

And there I was, there we were, Kris and I together. I saw us, carrying our good intentions to a well lit door, we so often know exactly what we’re supposed to do. So confident we are, to carry out what is so obvious, we are fearless to run toward it. Yet, even the straightest path needs light. Even the most obvious direction has rising steps along the way. Even the clearest order of business holds a few steps shadowed and though we should never shrink back, we should be sure to step ahead with patience and as much light as possible.

Ivan fell. Just ten yards of straight road, and he fell. This life is full of stumbles and we are no match for it’s shadowed steps. I look at Kris, and he looks at me, and we don’t know whether to laugh or cry some days. Brushing ourselves off, stretching out the sore limbs, we are not defeated but we are wounded and the going forward will be slow, but I wonder if like Ivan did, we should let the tears fall a little longer. Hand off the burden to Christ, savor the comfort of the Holy Spirit and allow our Heavenly Father to scoop us up and carry us the rest of the way.

Some days we don’t have a choice. Some days, the only way forward is in His arms. Today though, our feet are working, our legs are strong and we are ready to run, but as we continue to look ahead with no doubt as to where we are going, we must be diligent to shine the light over the little steps along the way.

Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path. ~Psalm 119:105