Author: Marcia Furrow

The Little Ones

10/03/2013contentment, Spiritual Walk, The Furrowed Brow, , Leave a comment

Every now and then I see her. She is a happy little girl with blonde hair sitting on a tricycle with the handlebars broken off. There are other toys around for her to play with. But she always chooses the tricycle. It’s not safe. If she were to fall, she could really get hurt. But she doesn’t seem to care. She pedals and with both hands on the gooseneck, she tries to steer. I’ve never seen her actually succeed. But she’s always smiling.

There is something about her that makes me think of the verse in Matthew 18 “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Why didn’t Jesus say, “unless you become mature and serious and all grown up?”

What is Jesus looking for? What must we change? What is it about little children that we’re missing?

I’ve thought a lot about that recently. I’ve thought about what it means to be a little child, to be small, to be insignificant, and to be little.

The little ones are totally dependent on the big ones to take care of them. They are told when to get up, and when to go to bed, and though they may whine or complain, they still go. They are told when to eat, and what to eat. They are given limited choices, this shirt or that shirt. Every day in the future is ‘tomorrow’ and every day in the past is ‘yesterday’, there is no real understanding of ‘time’. And, they never worry about whether or not the rent will be paid, or if there is food in the pantry, they just assume there is, or will be.

The little ones trust the big ones completely.

The little ones are not afraid to laugh at silly things. They poke bugs. They wear diapers. They can’t pronounce all their words. And they’re not embarrassed by any of it. They are content to sit and hear the same story told over and over. They like to cuddle before bed. They like to hear bedtime songs sung off key.

The little ones just like to be around the big ones.

I think this is what Jesus wants. He wants us to abandon all of the things that separate us from him and from each other. Independence. Self-protection. Worry. Complaining. The need to have everything ‘just right’.

He wants us to trust him completely.

He wants us to like being around him.

It is not easy to be little. It’s not easy to let go of all the things that keep us from sitting at Jesus’ feet and worshiping with abandon. People might be watching. We might get laughed at. There’s work to be done.

Does God ever bring you a memory, like me on my broken tricycle, to remind you that it is OK to let down your guard and be little, so that you might more fully love and trust your very Big God?

Holding On! Walking Forward!

10/03/2013Spiritual Walk, The Furrowed Brow, , , , Leave a comment

As a little girl, the biggest, strongest, most courageous, fearless and handsome man in the entire world was my dad. It seemed there was nothing he was afraid of, and when I was close to him, I didn’t need to be afraid either. I knew he’d take care of me no matter what.

If we were in a situation where he knew I needed to stay close for my protection, and his peace of mind, he’d hold out his finger and I’d grab hold. All of us kids knew to grab hold, and we didn’t argue. When my siblings and I grew up and had children of our own, we would laugh as we recalled stories of how trained we were to hold dad’s finger.

In the final hours of dad’s life, when he was barely speaking, and rarely opening his eyes, I asked him if he remembered how he’d hold out his finger to me. He nodded and slowly and lifted his finger off the bed just a little. I grabbed hold.

I asked him if he was going to see Jesus that day. He said, “Yes.” I told him that when he saw Jesus, to look for his hand, and to grab hold of Jesus’ finger and not let go. He said that he would. A few hours later, he did.

Why is this story my very first blog entry? Because today, my life is in transition, and I’m not sure where I’m going and I don’t want to wander off and get lost in the crowd, or find myself in a place that I am not prepared to navigate. God is moving me from my cozy little cocoon, where I’ve taught for over fourteen years, from the women who know me, love me, and listen to me week after week into an area that I am not sure I recognize. I feel like that little girl who needs to see her dad hold out his finger, so that she can grab hold and know she is safe and protected.

Without realizing it, my dad taught me well. He taught me as a little child, to grab hold of my Father’s finger. And, so, I look to my Father, God, and I am grabbing hold of his finger.

I am holding on tight, because I know that He will guide me and He will protect me. He is the One and Only, the biggest, strongest, most courageous, fearless, beautiful God in the entire universe, for He created the universe, with His finger. He created me. He has a plan for me, and He will bring that plan to fruition.

So, as I begin this next chapter, I want to say “Thank you!” to my dad, thank you for teaching me to hold on. And, to my Father, to whom I am holding, “I’m so excited to walk this path with you, for I know, that no one can snatch me out of your hand.”