by | Mar 26, 2022 | Comfort, Presence, Trials

So I made a fool of myself…

“We’re going to the beach,” my 3-year old granddaughter squealed and hopped up and down with excitement.

At this point, I don’t think she realizes that her Nannah is blind. Since I show her things, I pretend to read to her, walk with her, change her, bathe her and do all the things “normal” grandmas do, she assumes I have eyesight just like everyone else.

It was beach time one day this past weekend. And I stuffed sunscreen, towels and plenty of water in a beach bag. With one hand, I held on to my hubby and with the other, I held her little hand. The three of us walked on that hot sand until we got closer to the water.

While hubby got comfortable on a beach chair under an umbrella, she tugged at my hand. “C’mon Nannah, let’s go in the ocean.”

With no obstacles in the way, and holding tight to her little hand, she and I took off. We jumped, splashed, sat on the sand, and built castles that quickly slid into the water. She ran to one side, then the other. Tugging at my hand, we ran and ran back and forth.

After I imagined that more than an hour passed, I realized we might have gone far from the place we started. And hubby, unable to see us, would never find us.

A slight panic filtered through. I pulled her little hand closer to me, got on my knee, and cupped her little face in my hands and looked into her smooth face. “Honey, do you see Papa anywhere?”

“No,” she said, “Jump with me Nannah, here comes another wave.”

Another wave? I thought. We need to halt our fun and figure out what to do. We might be lost and hubby might have to call the coast guard to look for blind woman with a 3-year-old little girl.

My imagination went wild with possibilities. “Listen,” I said to her, “take me where you see some people on the sand.”

But her focus was on running and jumping as she pulled me the other way, further to one side.

The moment I heard voices near me, I tucked away any ounce of pride and smiled in their direction. “Excuse me, “I said, “Do you have a cell phone? I’m blind and I need to call my husband.”

“Sure,” a male voice answered, “what’s his number?”

As I started to give it to him, the man said, “I think that’s him waving over there.”

Sure enough. My hubby, who was but a few feet away, caught their attention to let them know he was right there.

Did I feel like a fool? Just a tad.

Yes, amigas, we are zany that way. When we think we’re lost, far away from God’s watchful eye, we panic. Then we resort to those around us for help or advice, for comfort and for guidance.

So often, blinded from seeing God’s presence near us, we face an ocean of troubles, and the sand we once played on becomes the quicksand of anxiety. Our thinking becomes blurred with fear.  That’s when we echo David’s words, “Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?” (Psalm 22:1a NIV).

Like us sometimes, he continues to groan, complain, and splash in self-pity. Then he looks up, and a few inches of his soul, God waves His hand at him. And that’s when David remembers: “In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. They cried to you and were saved; in you they trusted and were not disappointed” (Psalm 22:4-5 NIV)

Then with the towel of renewed faith, he wipes away doubt. And inhaling a deep breath of comfort, his words change: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will hear no evil,

“for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4 NIV).

Prayer: Father, I confess moments of panic settle in when life brings waves of troubles. And rather than answers, in the horizon more problems appear. In those moments, Lord, remind me you’re not far. Increase my faith to know that when the world can’t bring me home, you’re able to guide me home to the comfort of your arms and the safety of your love. In Jesus’ name I ask.

–How close do you feel to God right now?
–What distractions take you away from Him?
–How far have you wondered from the comfort He offers?

Janet Perez Eckles