I had just asked God how He wanted to reveal Himself to me today when my phone notified me that someone had left a message. It was my seven-year-old granddaughter. (I gave myself permission to interrupt my reflective time with God.) He knows and shares the joy that is mine when I am with this child.
The message said simply, “Besta, call me as soon as possible.”
My return call was waiting to be answered. It took a while, though, for me to understand what she was trying to tell me as the exhilaration in her voice overpowered the words. I knew it was something totally delightful. Finally I got it. She had ridden her bike this morning without training wheels.
I celebrated with her, asked for every detail, soaked in her joy and suggested that now we can ride together. We ended the phone call both happy to have talked to each other.
As I returned to my contemplative time with God I asked, “What do you want me to learn about You today?”
I smiled as I sensed His answer. “I want you to ride with Me without training wheels.”
Since I was reading Psalm 84 I looked for some ideas of what this ride would look like.
“Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.”
“Blessed are they whose strength is in you.”
“Blessed is the man who trusts in you.”
Maybe the training wheels that need to come off are lack of praise, looking for strength from some other place and placing my trust in some other thing.
I wonder, though, if what God’s heart longs for is for me to call Him with such elation that He has trouble understanding my words. (A time when I have encountered Him at a deeper level.) What I will be trying to say is “My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.” But all He will hear is my joy that now we can ride together.