I watch my youngest daughter, Hannah, on the balance beam. Arms stretched out on each side, she walks toe-to-heel, ever so slowly. She wobbles slightly, stops, then restarts. Head down, she keeps her eyes focused on the beam below her. All the while, her coach walks beside her, hands inches from Hannah's waist, ready to catch her if her feet slip, if she starts to fall. She reminds Hannah to lift her head and look up.
The conversation was one that had been coming for a long time, years even. Too many issues swept under the rug. I was fearful. I'm familiar with the old me. I know how I used to handle these situations. Suddenly, forgiveness and grace were not even on my radar. The old me showed up with a vengeance. I was ready for attack. I waited. I didn't pray at first....I didn't want to. I knew He'd lead me to have the conversation, just not in the manner that the old me would have done it, the way the new me wanted to revert to.
The girls and I are learning Psalm 121.Verse 3 starts off by saying He will not let your foot slip. This particular part of this verse has intrigued me over the past two weeks. I'm amazed how God is our keeper, the one who steadies our feet. When we carefully walk with head-down, eyes cast on our feet treading the path before us, we're prone to wobble and stumble. He steadies us, lifts our heads, and reminds us to keep our eyes focused on Him.
The verse wouldn't go away. For two days, the words He will not let your foot slip ran through my mind. He wouldn't leave me alone. He reminded me that He's picked me up from the ground, restored me, and He won't let me return to the old ways. He won't let my foot slip.
God, help me was my simple prayer.
The conversation took place...not in the way it would have years ago. Quiet calm mixed with determined firmness. God helping me. Grace keeping my foot from slipping.