Close Call

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IMG_0471May 4, 2013 [My Life]
Last week, my 8 month old granddaughter whom I’ve been keeping during the day for several months, fell out of the high chair onto her head on the tile floor–on my watch. It was awful.  She got a HUGE golfball-sized lump on her head and she wouldn’t be comforted. My son and his wife took her to the hospital, asking me to stay behind, as it was too hard to try to be polite to me when fear and anger were present. You know I got on my knees and prayed through tears–afraid for the baby’s health, afraid for being unforgiven by her parents, so ashamed and sorrowful for choosing to not strap her in, fearful of being her caretaker in the future, trembling with “what ifs . . ” . . . past, present, and future . . .

I knew I wanted to respond to the situation in a way that glorified God. As I cried and prayed, I reminded myself I needed to take care not to let my fears become idols of my heart, not allow my desires to become what I worshipped and needed for happiness. God alone was worthy of my worship. So I examined my heart and repented of the idolatry I found. Then I examined my heart further. Why had I not strapped her in? No, it wasn’t purely an accident, but carelessness. It was my rebellious nature that strains against rules, especially ones that increase the amount of time to do something. I hadn’t forgotten to strap her in; in a single instant I had chosen not to do so. It was my sin nature, resisting constant obedience, that whispered, “don’t bother, it’s not necessary, she’ll be fine, you’re right here with her . . . ”

Humbled, I confessed and repented, and my prayers took on a completely different nature–from pleading and trying to get God to work on my behalf by “focused concentrated prayer”, to submitting myself before the Almighty God in petition and intercession. It may not sound much different when described in words, but it’s a very different heart.

After a CAT scan to make sure all was well, baby Aubry was sent home. I was so thankful. I didn’t know if I would be forgiven and trusted with her again, but I kept praying. Later that night, my son came to me and admitted he didn’t want to say much for fear of saying something he might regret,  but he wasn’t angry  and his words were kind and forgiving. The next day, he kept watch over the baby in the morning, then later in the afternoon asked if I would like to give her the afternoon bottle. It was an extended hand of forgiveness and an expression of continued trust with the most precious thing in his life. I confessed my carelessness, and he forgave me–saying he trusted me perhaps even more now. I’m thankful that in the midst of it all, God reminded me that when I seek to honor, and obey Him in all situations, even when I’ve sinned . . . especially when I realize I have sinned . . . He is there.






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