Learning to Walk
“Don’t you think it’s rather nice to think we’re in a book God’s writing? If I were writing a book, I might make mistakes. But God knows how to make the story end just right – in the way that’s best for us.”
“Do you really believe that, Mother?” Peter asked quietly.
“Yes,” she said, “I do believe it – almost always – except when I’m so sad that I can’t believe anything. But even when I can’t believe it, I know it’s true – and I try to believe it. You don’t know how I try.” [1]
Have you ever been so sad that you couldn’t believe anything? I used to think that was impossible. As a young mother with small children, this passage in a children’s book did not resonate with me the way that it does now, after more life experiences to challenge my faith and shake my beliefs.
I once believed that I would never ask questions like, “Can God work in this circumstance?” or, “Is there hope for a different future?” But over the course of 25 years of ministry life these questions have crept into my thoughts. Life has a way of challenging us in ways we often could not foresee or fathom.
In the wake of major life disappointments, the waves of doubt can threaten to disorient even mature believers. In those seasons, it can be tempting to hesitate to walk in faith without an assurance of the outcome or the path being clearly delineated. How can we remember in those moments how to trust in God? I found inspiration from a little child. Not just any child. A specific child. A child with only one leg.
A ministry friend of mine has three children. Her youngest daughter, aptly named Hope, was born without a right leg. Beneath her torso, her right hip and leg are missing. The mother, Laura, often shares pictures and videos of her family on Facebook. One day she shared a video of Hope taking her first tentative, wobbly steps on a new prosthetic hip and leg. The child is crying as she is being encouraged to walk by someone offscreen. You can hear the parent coaxing the child to take a step and see the outstretched hands reaching toward Hope in entreaty. It is obvious that the mother is giving her daughter the freedom to make the required effort unassisted, but she is ready and prepared to catch her upon descent.
When asked about Hope’s tears, her mother explained that her daughter cried because she was afraid. Afraid because with the absence of a pelvic structure, there is no corresponding muscle with nerve endings to send a message to the brain. This is a much needed message, that there is in fact a leg in the previously empty space upon which to brace and support her body. In other words, Hope had to learn to step into what felt like an empty space, trusting that she would stay upright regardless of the fact that it felt as though she would free fall to the ground. She literally now has to learn how to walk in faith. What a beautiful illustration of the well-known verse in Heb. 11:1, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”
Life can be disorienting sometimes. The longer I live, the more disorienting it becomes. Some of my greatest expectations have brought some of my greatest heartaches. Hurt has often been the unwanted blanket I find myself wrapped in. During those times, I feel like trusting God is hard or scary because the space beneath me feels empty and blank. The last thing I want to do is step out in faith. Some days I may be angry because walking with God does not come as naturally as I desire or expect. Or, I am afraid because I question the wisdom of stepping when I cannot see, sense, or feel that the step will be secure enough to keep me from falling.
Maybe you are like me in your moments of hesitancy and doubt. If so, we need to follow Hope’s example. First, we must listen to God’s voice, coaxing us to walk one step at a time. Second, we must look ahead to see God’s outstretched hands, steady and poised to support and protect us. Lastly, we must follow the child’s lead. Do the hard thing, and take that step no matter how tentative. Then, we must take the next step, and the one after that. With each step, the body responds and follows. Like Hope, we must also learn to walk: to walk in faith, one step at a time.
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[1] Edith Nesbit, The Railway Children, Chrysalis Children’s Books: 2003, 201-202.
