Fear-less

We have a very special little girl at our house. Her daddy calls her 'Giggles.' Partly because it rhymes with a shortened version of her given name and partly because that's just what she does. Constantly. No matter what life throws at her, Giggles is, well, giggling! And in this she brings immense joy to our home because her spirit is infectious and has all of us laughing.

God has used Giggles to teach me some very valuable lessons. Her seizure disorder brings with it several unique challenges, one of which is an incredibly high pain tolerance, the other a seeming inability to fear. This combination often helps her to get into situations most of us would have the common sense to avoid. The fact that she is two only compounds her keen ability to find trouble!

Yesterday morning she was up in the playroom terrorizing her brothers and her sister. They were building Lego towers and she was taking it upon herself to be the one-man wrecking crew. After several pleas from her siblings for a rescue, I decided I'd have her come to the kitchen to help fix a snack.

As I was walking up the stairs I saw her at the top of the landing. I held out my arms and said "C'mon, Mama needs your help cutting the watermelon." To my surprise, she backed up about four feet and with reckless abandon made a running leap for my catch.

Only I hadn't really intended to catch her. I was still five steps down and it was too far for her to jump. She didn't seem to notice and was in the air before I could stop her.

And suddenly, there she was. In the security of my embrace, having no idea of the calamity that could have befallen her, giggling and happy, thinking she'd just had the thrill of her Tuesday.

Once my heart started beating again, I felt the Lord speak to me: 'I want you to live life like she does.'

How's that, tempting disaster on a continual basis?

'No, trusting Me.'

Wow.

I've been thinking about it ever since.

Giggles has an all-or-nothing spirit. And when she leaps, she leaps. Yesterday she seemingly had no idea of the peril that awaited her when she plunged off the landing. She wasn't worried about it because she had me in her sights. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that I would catch her. She is confident enough in my love for her that she knew I wouldn't, couldn't, let her fall.

And that's how God wants me to be with Him.

The trouble is, unlike Giggles, I have known pain. And because far too often I don't first check to see if He is there, I've fallen down enough times that I also have fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of missing the mark. Fear of failure. Fear of not being caught. Fear of being hurt. And the most unfounded: fear that maybe, just maybe, He's stopped loving me.

So I hesitate. Before I choose to trust Him, I stop and weigh the options: What will trusting Him cost me?

But my loving Heavenly Father is not like me. There is no chance of Him dropping me when I leap into His loving arms. He is waiting for me. And like Giggles did yesterday, He wants me to back up, put a smile in my heart, let my hair flap in the breeze and RUN to Him. With reckless abandon. Into His safety. Into His embrace. Into His love.

Without doubting. Without stopping to think about how He might fail me. Because He won't. He can't.

He wants me to know that as much as I love my little girl, He loves me infinitely more. And as much as I want to protect Giggles, He wants to protect me more. As I watch out and care for her and help her to recognize danger, He does this for me more.

And even when it seems impossible not to crash and burn, He is still waiting for me with open arms. Never caught off guard. Always ready.

Unconditionally.