Humming obliviously, happily, two year-old Micah busied himself around the circular play base on the church lawn.
Now he was even dipping his rosy cheeks, nose down, inside the hole at it’s top – curious to spy inside. Investigating. Learning. Having fun. Pulling his face away with a whee and a giggle.
To him, all the world was pure joy, playing at Daddy’s knees. He wasn’t paying attention to his brother’s and cousin’s excited voices a few yards away. He wasn’t worrying at their arms poised to whiz bean bags directly where his little face rose.
Was his dad aware of him there? How could he not be?
“Oh, this makes me nervous,” I was just commenting sotto voce to my friend beside me, nodding at her tiny grandson, when we heard her son in law call to the other boys — “THROW!”
Like watching a fast ball hurtling through space, we gaped as the sturdy bag came zipping full speed towards the hole. Speedier still, a strong arm shot out…just an inch away from Micah’s forehead… with microsecond timing. Smack! hit the bag into the grip of that hand while it’s owner just took it in stride and whooped towards his other son across the way. “Great job!” he called, giving him the thumbs up.
“WOW!” I exhaled, open-mouthed.
The game went on while I swallowed my breath.
And a picture formed in my mind, like a kaleidoscope focusing and zeroing in.
The image of a larger than life Father watching out for us all. Sending angels to intercept those whamming bean bags headed our way.
Sometimes, it may not even seem like His eye is on us. He’s looking out ahead, elsewhere. He’s letting us do our own thing, explore our own way, despite possibility of imminent danger. He wants us to grow freely… but His strong right arm is ever poised and ready. Ministering angels at our sides.
How many fast flying bean bags has He protected us from? The way we just missed that car when it seemed to almost pass through the front end of our own. The multitudes of times we’ve been like Micah, having zip idea what we’ve just been spared.
Micah laughed, looked up, up… into his daddy’s face high above. Had I been the one following my instincts, I’d probably have grabbed the child and spun him out of range. Most likely to the screech of an angry, non-comprehending toddler who would interpret me as a terrorist interrupting his freedom for no good reason.
How beautiful is the right Hand of our Father, administering joy…grace…power and strength to our lives.
Breaking through gates of iron.
Lifting us up out of the pit and putting our feet on sure, high ground.
Anointing us with His hand of favor…
© Pam Depoyan
‘Do not fear [anything], for I am with you;
Do not be afraid, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, be assured I will help you;
I will certainly take hold of you with My righteous right hand [a hand of justice, of power, of victory, of salvation].’
~ Isaiah 41:10, amplified
Pen and Ink Drawing of Micah’s Treasure Pocket, above – Mine. (Please do not copy without permission. See my copyright info button on the sidebar. )