Ahh! Morning. Crisp, peaceful, and enchanting. The quietness of the morning is my favorite time of the day before the hustle and bustle of life begins. On this particular morning, I was sitting on our little veranda enjoying the warmness of the sun rising, sipping my favorite coffee, and watching my cat, Wheezer, eat grass. While gazing at the beauty of the fall colors of the leaves, my attention was drawn to one particular tree across the street. It appeared as though it was on fire, and the variety of colors ranged from the most profound gold hues to fiery red. Ah! What a breathtaking and refreshing way to start my day. Perusing the neighborhood, I noticed an older gentleman, possibly a grandfather, walking hand in hand with his little girl, who looked about two or three years old. All dressed in her little white dress, that was delicately trimmed with lace and bows appearing to be iridescent in the morning light. The sunshine played its tune on her black patent leather shoes graced with a bowtie. Every two or three steps they took, she would get excited and skip joyfully, making the sound of tiny taps on the sidewalk. In her jet-black, curly hair was a frilly red bow that held her hair somewhat in place as she bounced up and down. Her incredible new world enthralled her.
There was not one moment or step taken that went unnoticed by her grandfather. She would bend down to watch the bugs at the curb, listen to the birds chirping, and play in the morning's dew that glistened in the sun. Grandfather was pleased to be with this little one and watched with great joy as her curiosity grew. He was protective and content as he watched over her and constantly glanced down the tree-lined street to ensure no imminent danger was coming. He would protect this little bundle of joy with his life. He talked, laughed, and played with her. Once, he bent down to show her a bug crawling on the street before her and then watched her intently as she tried to play with the bug.
The journey continued around the corner and down the next street when the bug adventure ended. The little girl, so free in her life, started to dance and skip as they made their way to a brighter street with fewer trees and more sunshine. She was excited to go down the street but distracted by possibly another bug; she started to turn around and go back to where they had just come from. The grandfather, fully aware of every gesture, every move, every smile, and every word she made, hung on to her hand securely, ensuring she was well protected. Nothing was going to interrupt her walk this morning. Suddenly, she turned so quickly that her grandfather was compelled to turn with her, still hanging on to her tiny little hand. He bent down and quietly spoke words into her ear, and as suddenly as they had turned to go back to the tree-lined street, they were going back down the sunlit street. She hung tightly onto her grandfather's strong hand, trusting him to lead her on her little journey, to see more cute little bugs or pretty flowers to smell or to spend time on her walk with her loving grandfather.
As I sat there watching the lives of two people I did not know, God reminded me of His word pictures. He very clearly spelled out my walk with Him. No matter where I have been, God, in His infinite love, has held on to my hand, watching everything I do. My God does not hover over me to find everything wrong with me, but He is always there to enjoy what I enjoy, never letting me out of His sight. Even when I turned my way to go back to where I came from, The Lord was still there, whispering in my ear the way to go and gently leading me to go with Him, and at times, I am sure, I thought I was going my own way, but His hand was always in mine guiding me. God did not leave me in the middle of the street unprotected from the unknown but made sure that He watched every move I made, guiding me toward the right way of living—hand in hand with my Father.