Deuteronomy 1:31 paints a beautiful picture when it says, "and in the wilderness where you saw how the Lord your God carried you, just as a man carries his son." There is something remarkable about seeing a father carry his son. My dad used to carry me everywhere. My mom still loves to tell the story of how he once hiked up a mountain and I slept through the entire trail on his shoulders. Although I don't remember that I do remember that as a child I would play "blind." He would lead me by the hand and I had to keep my eyes closed. He would help me step off the curb, avoid pot-holes, and climb over bumps. It was great. I trusted him completely.
Another beautiful picture is in Isaiah 66:13 when he says, "As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you." A mother's comfort is the best cure to almost any problem. I remember my mother often comforting me with her wise advice, good food, or an embrace.
Why then is it so difficult for me to fit into my family? Yes, it's true I sometimes find it difficult to fit into my family on earth, but I also find it difficult to fit into my spiritual family. It's not just sibling rivalry or jealous affections. No, it is a problem I have with God Himself. Sometimes I don't trust Him. I don't want Him to walk me by the hand and carry me. I'm a big boy, according to my standards. I mean, I've been a Christian for over 20 years. I should be able to handle myself by now. I can taste a little of the world and not get intoxicated by it all. Not so! So I crash, and He let's me fall. Then He picks me up. He comforts me and one would think I'd be grateful. Instead I am often resentful. I wonder why He let me fall in the first place. It seems to me I don't make any sense. I'm ridiculous. First I want to walk alone. Then I complain for feeling abandoned.
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