Finding Forty

Today my son was climbing on a box.

He had his legs hanging off the edge, completely capable of putting his feet on the ground.

He cried out, “HELP!”

We were all busy with other tasks in the house. I could hear it immediately, not a cry of danger but a bid for attention. A check in. Still, without thinking much in the moment, I called back,

“No, you can do it yourself. Put your feet down.”

He did.

Afterward, I made sure to catch his eyes. I smiled. I let him see that I had noticed him all along, that he mattered.

Then he came and joined me in the task I was doing.

Later, as parenting moments often do, it settled deeper.

Parenting has a way of revealing our relationship with Christ when we are not even looking for the lesson. This moment did that for me.

There have been so many times in my life when I cried out for help and felt like God did not hear me. Like my voice did not reach Him. Like the silence meant absence.

But maybe it was not unheard.

Maybe it just was not needed.

Not every help requires rescue. Some moments require footing. Growth. The confidence to realize our feet were always close enough to the ground.

And maybe, this is the part that softens me, God was watching the whole time. Discerning the difference between danger and development. Waiting for me to put my feet down.

And then, once I did, offering the reassurance.

I saw you. You mattered. You were never alone.

With that realization, I bring this reflection to God in prayer.

God,

You are faithful and wise.

You see what I cannot see and know when I need rescue and when I need growth.

You are present in every moment, attentive and loving, never distracted or distant.

Forgive me for the times I have mistaken silence for absence.

For the moments I have doubted Your care when You were strengthening my footing.

For assuming You did not hear me, when You were teaching me to stand.

Help me trust Your discernment.

Teach me to recognize when You are inviting me to step down on my own.

Give me courage to move forward even when I want to be carried,

and reassurance that Your eyes are always on me.

I yield my fear, my timing, and my need for immediate rescue to You.

I trust that You are good, that You are near, and that You are guiding every step, even the unsteady ones.

Amen.