So I made a fool of myself ...
“We’re going to the beach,” my 3-year old granddaughter squealed and hopped
up and down with excitement.
At this point, I don’t think she realizes that her Nannah is blind. Since I show
her things, I pretend to read to her, walk with her, change her, bathe her and
do all the things “normal” grandmas do, she assumes I have eyesight just like
everyone else.
It was beach time one day this past weekend. And I stuffed sunscreen, towels and
plenty of water in a beach bag. With one hand, I held on to my hubby and with
the other, I held her little hand. The three of us walked on that hot sand until
we got closer to the water.
While hubby got comfortable on a beach chair under an umbrella, she tugged at my
hand. “C’mon Nannah, let’s go in the ocean.”
With no obstacles in the way, and holding tight to her little hand, she and I
took off. We jumped, splashed, sat on the sand, and built castles that quickly
slid into the water. She ran to one side, then the other. Tugging at my hand, we
ran and ran back and forth.
After I imagined that more than an hour passed, I realized we might have gone
far from the place we started. And hubby, unable to see us, would never find us.
A slight panic filtered through. I pulled her little hand closer to me, got on
my knee, and cupped her little face in my hands and looked into her smooth face.
“Honey, do you see Papa anywhere?”
“No,” she said, “Jump with me Nannah, here comes another wave.”
Another wave? I thought. We need to halt our fun and figure out what to do. We
might be lost and hubby might have to call the coast guard to look for blind
woman with a 3-year-old little girl.
My imagination went wild with possibilities. “Listen,” I said to her, “take me
where you see some people on the sand.”
But her focus was on running and jumping as she pulled me the other way, further
to one side.
The moment I heard voices near me, I tucked away any ounce of pride and smiled
in their direction. “Excuse me, “I said, “Do you have a cell phone? I’m blind
and I need to call my husband.”
“Sure,” a male voice answered, “what’s his number?”
As I started to give it to him, the man said, “I think that’s him waving over
there.”
Sure enough. My hubby, who was but a few feet away, caught their attention to
let them know he was right there.
Did I feel like a fool? Just a tad.
Yes, amigas, we are zany that way. When we think we’re lost, far away from God’s
watchful eye, we panic. Then we resort to those around us for help or advice,
for comfort and for guidance.
So often, blinded from seeing God’s presence near us, we face an ocean of
troubles, and the sand we once played on becomes the quicksand of anxiety. Our
thinking becomes blurred with fear. That’s when we echo David’s words, “Why are
you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?” (Psalm 22:1a).
Like us sometimes, he continues to groan, complain, and splash in self-pity.
Then he looks up, and a few inches of his soul, God waves His hand at him. And
that’s when David remembers: “In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted
and you delivered them. They cried to you and were saved; in you they trusted
and were not disappointed” (Psalm 22:4-5).
Then with the towel of renewed faith, he wipes away doubt. And inhaling a deep
breath of comfort, his words change: “Even though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death, I will hear no evil, for you are
with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).
Father, I confess moments of panic settle in when life brings waves of troubles.
And rather than answers, in the horizon more problems appear. In those moments,
Lord, remind me you’re not far. Increase my faith to know that when the world
can’t bring me home, you’re able to guide me home to the comfort of your arms
and the safety of your love. In Jesus’ name I ask.
How close do you feel to God right now?
What distractions take you away from Him?
How far have you wondered from the comfort He offers?
Janet Perez Eckles
jeckles@cfl.rr.com
www.janetperezeckles.com