Stretching

When I was in high school, I worked as a lifeguard. Which means that I worked as a baby-sitter at a pool. And like all baby-sitters, I saw my fair share of bumps and bruises. ...And gashes. 

I vividly remember one injury in particular. A little boy, maybe six years old, slipped, fell, and cut his bottom lip. I was on break at the time, cooling myself in the office. A fellow baby-sitter rushed the crying child inside and began to work. 

She was holding an ice packet to the boy’s lip, and he was whimpering, over and over again, “Owie! Owie!” It was quite cute, actually. While I stood there watching, thinking that there was nothing for me to do, the cashier Chris walked over to the boy, knelt by his side, and grabbed his hand.

“It’s okay bud, I know it hurts, but here, squeeze my hand. There you go, squeeze it hard, harder! That’s right, all of that pain you’re feeling, you just give it to me!”

Chris knelt like this for about a minute. I watched. 

A few days ago, I was sitting next to and touching Rumais while she was sitting in her car-seat (each of the younger children has one of their own). 

Her baby fingers are almost always clenched into fists, and my finger was gently breaking in. Slowly making my way through a collapsed tunnel.

One of the teachers walked up, sat down on the other side of Rumais, and began a session of physical therapy. 

As always, Rumais began to cry. I felt her fingers tighten, and I immediately thought of that little boy at the pool.  

And then, I thought of Jesus.  

He is constantly stretching our bodies and souls towards sanctification, and sometimes we don’t know what’s going on, and sometimes it’s painful. Very painful. 

But it’s okay. Because at the very same time, he is holding our hand. 

“Come to me, all who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

“All of that pain you’re feeling, you just give it to me.”