I said I would post a picture of the two-year-old grandson who told me, “Don’t worry! I’ve got you!” as I was carrying him down a set of icy stone steps. (See Monday’s post here.)
That remark held so much within it, how could I fail to remember it always?
It’s not that a little child like that was trying to look out for me, this giant adult who was, after all, carrying him bodily through space.
It’s more the metaphor of it; the idea, subtly suggested, that although we can never save ourselves from harm or elude fates as grim as the ones that have befallen or could have befallen people in Minnesota, Cleveland and Boston, we CAN save others. We can.
Strangers and bystanders.
All of us. And we do it all the time.
But how did this little child know that? I think it must have been the wisdom of God himself shining through him.
Maybe what you need is this soft focus you see in little David here, in this picture take two years after our halting journey down those icy steps. It’s the softer focus that lets us see not just the things that are right before us, but the things a little farther off, and hidden almost from our sight.