“Mama! Help me! I’m stuck,” shrieked a scared toddler voice from the depths of our crowded garage.
I rounded the corner to find my two year old son stuck in the middle of a conglomeration of bicycles, scooters, helmets, an “Arctic Cat” jeep, and a set of golf clubs.
“It’s OK, buddy,” I replied in my best don’t-panic-mommy-is-here voice intended to soothe and comfort.
His face softened. The tears stopped. He knew he was safe because he could see his mother’s face.
I reached over the mess and pulled him right out of it all.
In doing so, I suddenly thought of our Heavenly Father and how so many times He has reached down and pulled me out of a tangled mess of circumstances, a tapestry I wove together of my own accord. Yet, I was not wise enough to see that it wasn’t knitting together very well.
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