Back-Up Plan

One night, long, long, ago, when I was a little girl, I remember feigning a deep sleep in the back seat of our family station wagon. We had just pulled up into our driveway after an evening spent at the drive-in theatre. Traces of  grape Kool-Aid branded my upper lip. Kernels of popcorn littered the floor-mats. The stars in the inky sky, clusters of bright seeing eyes, must have laughed at the game I played. The car door opened and tendrils of summer air tickled my nose as  my dad angled himself into a good position to lift my small form. With my body limp as a rag-doll, he carried me safely into our house. I never knew if he realized I was wide awake, or if his own fatigue warned him not to mess with an eight-year old girl. However, this is what I do recall. The yearning inside of me for a daddy to hold me closely, especially when I felt exhausted, caused me to fake a slumber, to shut my eyes tight and allow him to lift me up into capable, reliable, strong arms. Arms much wider than my own. During this past month, in my season of back pain, of uncertainty and weakness, I found myself once again longing for escape, for deliverance from the constant hurt. I think we all have that little child inside, especially when our bodies ache, and we become exhausted from our own efforts to ease the pain. I have become well acquainted with the pharmacist at Walgreen's, and all of my whining now falls on deaf ears. It's times like these, when the unknown appears heavy like cement, that I am forced to acknowledge a simple truth. Since my own efforts often lead to frustration, emotional fatigue, and more pain, I need to return once again to those potent arms which hold a power far greater than all of my wayward, fretful thoughts, the fear, the dreaded muscle relaxers. Henri Nouwen says in The Prodigal Son, "Jesus, the Son of God, is the man of sorrows, but also the man of complete joy. We catch a glimpse of this when we realize that in the midst of his suffering Jesus is never separated from his father. His union with God is never broken even when he "feels" abandoned by God." I like that. I am not alone in the crisis, I can rely on someone else to help me, and in return I receive the gift of joy. I imagine by now Jesus is smiling, nodding that wise head, saying to me once again, oh daughter, I don't need to be your back-up plan. I've got your back.