The sun was losing its bright grip on the day, and our tired legs and bodies signaled that we were nearing the end of our two-day trip to the theme park. We would go on one more ride. My nine-year-old looked up at me with his dark eyes and excitedly said, “Let’s go!” We ran over to “Unikitty’s Disco Drop” and waited with anticipation for our turn to harness in. Little did I know that my willingness to ride a simple ride with my son would awaken a much larger willingness in my heart.
The Disco Drop is your typical “rise-and-fall” ride. After getting buckled in, riders are lifted high into the air before their seats plummet back down to start with no warning. Up and down, up and down. You know, the kind that makes your stomach flip a bit.
Zeke and I strapped in, waved at our family watching from a safe distance, and felt our hearts giddy with excitement. Up we climbed, waiting for the unseen climax from which we would drop. Then it happened: we dropped into a free fall, screaming happy all the way. Suddenly, we were jerked back up, only to be dropped again. Dropped and caught, dropped and caught.
I was beside myself—shocked at how this simple experience flooded my whole body with joy! I laughed harder than my little boy— harder than I had laughed in a long time.
The utter uncontrollableness of this simple ride felt like new life in my veins.
It made me wonder: when was the last time I was in a situation where I had not even the slightest sense of control? As a mom, a homeschool teacher, a worker, a wife—I exercise my God-given authority seemingly without stop throughout a day. “What are we going to have for dinner? Can I do screen time? What assignments do I have to do? When can you meet? What do you think about this budget?” These types of questions fill my days, and each one gives me a bit, or a lot, of control over its outcome.
It was on Unikitty’s Disco Drop, of all places, that the Lord pointed me back to a truth that he has been whispering to my heart recently: trust me like a child, Christa.
Children have control over very little in their lives—they don’t choose where they live or go to school or what homework they are supposed to complete or even what they eat for lunch. Their days are very often seasoned with surprises; some good (like donuts on a Saturday morning) and some bad (like having to do more homework than expected). Through it all, children show us a glimpse of what it means to trust someone outside of ourselves with our very lives.
Oh, how we adults can get this messed up.
Jesus said it like this, looking at a child in a crowd: “The greatest person in the kingdom of heaven is the one who makes himself humble like this child.” (Matthew 18:4)
So, Jesus is calling me, and perhaps he is calling you, too, to have faith like a child… to trust him, full stop. Sit down, buckle in, and let him control the ride. There is great joy in store!
Comments