I’ve spent the better part of this day reading about behavioral analysis, preparing for a test. As I read, I noticed how many times a procedure had to be enforced before the behavior was learned – and I began to wonder how many times a day I fell down while I was trying to learn to walk. And I wonder if my mom noticed my progress and was excited when I fell down fewer times on Monday than I had on Sunday or Saturday or Friday. And then I started thinking about my spiritual life and how I often fall short and I wonder if I will ever get it right. And in the midst of all this falling down, I must be learning to walk. And then I wonder if my Heavenly Father notices my progress and I think He must be excited that I fell down fewer times yesterday than the day before that. And even though I’m doing well today, I can’t help but wonder how many times I will fall down tomorrow. I know the Lord is more optimistic than that, or he surely would have given up on me by now.
This may sound simple, but knowing that I did learn to walk physically – amidst the pain and frustration of constantly falling down – gives me hope and the determination to stick it out now. If my mom had picked me up and carried me then to preserve me from those hurts and frustrations, I never would have learned to stand on my own two feet. I think it’s the same now with the Lord. Yes, He CAN pick me up and carry me, He HAS, especially recently, and I’m sure He WILL whenever it’s necessary, but only He has the wisdom to know the difference between when I need to be carried and when I need to learn to walk. I tend to always want to be carried because I rarely feel that I am strong enough. I need to trust Him more.