Leap into God

It was laundry day in the Chumbley household. Christa, our six year-old granddaughter, was standing atop the drier. How she got there, I don't know. I know that she has entered the climbing phase in her development.

"Sweetie," I said. "Sit down before you fall."

She didn't. She turned around, her back to me now, threw her arms out, as if to take a high-dive backwards, and then said, "Poppy, catch me."

And off she came.

I caught her, of course. She laughed. I held her, kissed her. And she was ready to take another leap into my arms. Backwards.

I learned something in that moment.

When Christa took her leap, she could not see me. Still, she trusted me, that I would be there for her. She knows I love her. I love her more than my own life. I would never let her fall. Ever.

And so it is with God. He loves us. He shows his love for us on the cross, loving us more than his own life, and saving us through his sacrifice.

Find your drier. Stand on top of it. Now, turn from that which you can see and to the One you cannot see. Throw out your arms. And take that leap of faith into the arms of our loving God.

And God will catch you. Every time.