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My son started soccer in January. It’s been a great experience thus far for him. He’s being challenged to really strengthen and condition his body, in ways he probably hasn’t before. His skills, such as they are, are being honed, and even though it was for us an expensive proposition, thus far, I’d say it has been an excellent investment. Young men need a physical challenge. They need to go out and conquer new things. I’m really happy for him, and proud of him.
The downside of this new phase, and we knew this would be a part of it going into it, is that….duh. We live in the Boonies. So that has meant a lot of driving. A lot of a lot of driving. Now, thankfully, my dear son has his driver’s license, so he is doing most of it, on his own. (Another adventurous challenge for him, that he loves!) But a lot of driving (like an hour each way, which means 2 hours of drive time in the car by himself, 4 days a week) means a lot of gas. And as you WELL know, gas ain’t gettin’ any cheaper.
So, we are trying to take this one day at a time, one week at a time, but, as expensive as signing up for soccer was, it looks like the most expensive part could end up being the gas to and from.
And, we have had very, very little work. It’s discouraging, if I dwell on that point of view.
My dear husband, the Big Bison, (whom I adore with my whole heart), is, however, the one who is carrying the weight in terms of bringing in income around here.
So, this morning, he was leaving the house to go off to hear a piece of music for advertising (read: jingle) that he has written, be played by a high school marching band. I am not making this up. I really couldn’t. Our life is so odd! Anyway, as he was walking out the door this morning, our son said to him, “Dad, I need some money for gas.”
And for a brief moment, I saw my husband’s shoulders sag, and I saw the weight that he carries for us, for this family. Now, it might have been just that he didn’t have any cash on him at that moment that caused that moment of “Oh, crud,” that I read in his face and his posture, but nevertheless, it caused me to think about the burden he carries for us all the time. I felt the load. And it isn’t a very light one.
So then, later this morning, when I was with the kids, working on our Bible lesson in Isaiah, we came across these verses in Isaiah 46:
“Listen to me, you descendants of Jacob,
all the remnant of the people of Israel,
you whom I have upheld since your birth,
and have carried since you were born.
4 Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
Here’s a summary of what I told the kids: When you’re born, you’re pretty much a boneless chicken breast. Wherever you go, it’s only because your parents carried you there. But they love you, so they don’t mind toting you around. And even after you become capable of walking, toddlers love to run to their parents’ arms, to just be held, and loved on. But you reach a certain age when you’re not so adorably portable anymore, and pretty much, you’re on your own in terms of getting from room to room and around the playground. And then, there comes a time when you “carry” yourself, as some folks say in the South. You drive yourself where you need to go. But you still need Dad to help with the gas money. And finally, one day, it’s up to you to pay for the gas. You dah man. (Or dah woman.) You make it happen. Or not.
But the beautiful, beautiful thing about God’s promise to His people here is that even to our old age and gray hair, (and let me tell you, the Big Bison and I have arrived at this stage. We’re bona fide!!!) God promises that He is the One who will sustain us. He has made us, and He will carry us in His arms. He sustains us, and will rescue us.
Yup. Figuratively speaking, He’s got the gas money.
Even when we’re old and gray, and we think it’s all on us? Not so.
What a comfort to know Who it is that carries us! Who it is, that carries you.
You do know that, right? I think He wants you to know that you are that loved.