“Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” -- 1 Peter 5:7
I can still remember, although vaguely, that one day when I was very young – oops! I can’t remember anymore my exact age then – most likely a toddler or a pre-schooler – that my father put me on his broad shoulders. To my distress, he didn’t just want me to sit on there, he wanted me to stand up like a circus act. At that time, my father looked like a giant from my vantage point of standing next to him. So when I looked down from his shoulder, struggling to stand up, acrophobia seized me. As a result, I shrieked like a slaughtered pig, kicking as if my life depended on it. For sure my father tried to reassure me, but his voice got buried somewhere between my fear and my yell.
Many years had passed.
One morning, not too long ago, my third daughter and I played mountain climbing. I was the mountain and Eleanor was the climber. She’s a twiggy, wavy haired, four-year who loved to join the Power Puff Girls someday. One major problem though, she was acrophobic, too. So when I told her to stand on my shoulder as a sign that she finally reached the summit, she refused vehemently. My fatherly words of reassurance just passed through her like a ghost through a wall without registering even a single blip in her head. Even when I held her hands firmly to give her a physical reassurance, she resisted and cried out so hard that I had to tell her that she didn’t have to stand on the summit after all.
Her reaction disturbed me. I knew that I would never allow her to fall. Why wouldn’t she believe me? After all, she’s priceless to me.
Then the scene from many years ago where I was on my father’s shoulder, terror-stricken, flashed back to me. It was a very unique experience. I saw both perspectives, the father’s and the child’s, all at the same time. Everything just connected.
This I understand now. Eleanor couldn’t trust me because she couldn’t see the depth of my love for her; it’s an abstract reality. She couldn’t trust me yet because we haven't done it before, so she had no physical evidence where she could pin her trust. Finally, she couldn’t hear my words of reassurance because a monstrous fear stared down at her, screaming discouragements at the top of its voice.
Are you in a situation right now that’s depressing and discouraging? Are you desperately wondering where’s the end of this dark tunnel? Do you feel that it’s the end of the world for you? Don’t!
You have a Father who’s been trying to show to you how much He loves you regardless of who you are today. You have a Father who’s greater than your problems now. You have a Father who wants to encourage and guide you always.
As absurd as it may sound, only when you're facing tremendous problem that you would be able to see the Father's love for you. Only when your self-confidence crumbles to the ground would the Father have a chance to do great things in your life. Only when your self-reliance is stripped away from you would you be able to hear the voice of the Father.
It is when you become weaker that you can become stronger. It is during the low point of your life that you realize that you still need a father. Come to Him and be whole once again.