One crisp winter night my son learned to climb the stairs. The sound of holiday music cheerfully played in the background and the smell of Christmas cookies filled my home. Shane wore fleece blue footie pajamas with playful polar bears on them and we were enjoying a quiet holiday evening together. My strong and ambitious son inched his body across the soft family room carpet twords the three cushy steps that lead to the main floor of our home. I watched him lift his right arm and he planted his palm firmly in the center of the step. Then the next arm repeated the same steps. His right knee swung over the step and he hoisted his body up onto these limbs followed by the left leg. My son was a climber.
At first I would stand behind him with a nervous motherly hand waiting to catch him if he should fall. Soon he could go up and down independently and my hand was no longer needed. Shane took great pride in his ability to climb the stairs from our sunken living room the mail floor.
Soon enough Shane discovered the ten towering stairs that connected the main floor to the upstairs which quickly produced a baby gate fixed to the bottom of this flight. At first my son quizzically explored a potential new toy that was the baby gate. His eyes surveyed the tan lattice plastic center and neutral wood frame. Shane was delighted that we could lift the bar up and down to remove the gate and place it back in and he enjoyed hooking those tiny finger through the gate and trying with all his might to tug it down. Soon the joy turned to frustration that his little body lacked the strength to move what Mom and Dad could. He would stand at the bottom of the stairs, body latched to the gate, crying that he could not go up the stairs nor remove the gate.
When I looked at this flight of stairs I saw the honey colored hard wood floors that graced our main level floor. They were beautiful, cool in temperature, and offered no cushion for a fall. The upper level flight of stairs had old carpet: worn, hard, unraveled. As a mother I saw the pain of the fall if Shane should loose his footing. I saw each bump on his head against the stair edges, each roll his little body would endure, and the hard landing upon those beautiful hardwood floors. Thus, despite the tears, the baby gate remained.
Though Shane won't remember the baby gate I know it will not be the last time I have to block an adventurous path off from my son. I have his best interest at heart. I want him safe and secure. In time I will teach him how to climb these stairs on his own but for now, in his infancy, it is not a task he is ready for.
Like so much in life we can't see the bumps and falls that may await for us down a path. In our humanity, we can't understand that we don't yet possess the ability or strength to sail a desired course. Our Lord sees each step that we take and knows our ability. He can see the beginning and the end of a move, a relationship, a job, a trip, a purchase, an opportunity and He has our best interest. Trust the path you are on now is one that has been lovingly opened up to you and perhaps the one you wanted so badly, the one you cried you could not walk down, is best left off limits for reasons that the Lord can see. He has your best interest at heart.
Scripture to Ponder: Proverbs 16:9 In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.
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