So, this was yesterday morning. Rain was imminent.
We haven’t seen much rain of late.
And I knew that a “quick fix” on my roof for a very small hole …
had recently been removed by wind.
So, I knew I had to get up on the roof
before the heavens opened and the world was drenched.
I’m really not afraid of heights.
But, there is something about being on a slanted surface
15-20 feet above the ground
walking on pine needles, sticks and Sweet Gum balls
with no rail
that leaves me nervous.
But, if I don’t get up there … who will?
James is a big help from time to time, but
I’ve said before … I don’t think it’s his sole responsibility
to care for everything “manly” or “dangerous” that needs to be done
to keep this house healthy. This is my house and the responsibility is mine.
So, I brave this aluminum scaffold
leaving stable, steady ground
and move to a slanted, higher surface.
And my heart races.
Here’s the thing: I can fairly easily get up onto the roof.
My struggle is coming back down.
I can step backwards towards the edge of the roof.
I can flip my leg over the ladder.
But, the hard part is
t.r.a.n.s.f.e.r.r.i.n.g my weight from the roof to the ladder rung.
As I stood there yesterday in the morning cool with clouds overhead and impending rain, I shifted my weight from the roof to the rung, back to the roof, back to the rung. I just couldn’t commit to transferring all of my weight onto the ladder.
God reminded my heart that this is a trust issue.
This is a physical snapshot of my spiritual photo album.
This is the tug-of-war of life.
But, Lord! The ladder could tip!
The roof is high!
The fall would be hard!
I can’t afford to break a leg or shoulder!
In the end, I decided the only way I could safely get down was if I knew the ladder was braced.
So, I did this …
several times ….
… and she didn’t answer.
Then I decided to use the broom handle as a tool. I began banging on the sliding glass door to The Party Room where Glory was sleeping. After some persistence, she woke up and came out to help me.
She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t impatient. She understood. And she stood there for the few minutes that it took me to move to the edge of the roof, flip my leg over that tall, aluminum ladder, transfer my weight from roof-to-rung and work my way down to the ground.
I thought about the difference it made
with her standing there holding that ladder still …
bracing it on the edge of the roof so it wouldn’t tip to the right
or fall to the left
taking me down like a rag-doll with it.
Her presence … her bracing … her steadying .. made all the difference
for my insecure feet … my trembling soul.
And that was the reminder for me.
God is there. He braces the ladder. He steadies the scaffold.
He says, “transfer your weight from the scary place up high
that has no rail and is scattered with slippery fodder
to the ladder that will guide you back to solid ground.”
Psalm 9:10 says, “Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.” I know that I can trust Him. He won’t save me from every harm, but He will calm my soul as I walk. He won’t keep me from every calamity, but He will steady me as I travel. He will brace the ladder that is life. He can be trusted.
He reminded me yesterday morning to transfer my weight … and trust … to Him.