She begs to sit in my lap.  I say “yes” because I’m a softy that way.  Even if it is only from our mailbox, which rests just a few houses down our street from us, or around our small block, she loves to steer the car.

She eagerly sits.  Her fuzzy pony tail tickles my nose and makes me smile.  Her sweet pink sneakers dangle over the edge of the seat, in no danger of reaching the pedals.  She looks back at me and giggles with excitement.  She grabs onto the steering wheel.  Her tiny fingers wrap it with great anticipation, and she strains to see the road from her self-described seat of honor.

I slowly ease off the gas, and her entire body tenses with excitement.  She stays silent, completely focused on the road ahead, oblivious to all the world around her.  The cars parked down the street pose a great threat, the trash cans that have been not-so-carefully placed along our suburban street, the dogs and cats that periodically wander our neighborhood, unsuspecting passerby’s, are all in danger, and are all dangerous to a five year old behind the wheel of a car.

So, I help.  I guide her down the short stretch of road.  For now, I keep one hand placed on the wheel to encourage her to stay straight on our path.  I stop her from swerving wildly from right to left, “over-correcting” as her Daddy calls it.  I help her to avoid anything that poses a threat.  She smiles back at me, completely oblivious to the fact that she is driving a piece of machinery many, many times her size.  She has no idea the power she has to hurt herself and others if she is careless for even one moment.  That is why I am there, first to smile back, and next guide her, to teach her to avoid all that could cause pain and destruction.

Isn’t this what motherhood is really all about?  Each day, my children climb into my lap, ready to learn, desiring to lead their own little lives. Their feet dangle over the edge of my knees, leaving me to control the speed of the vehicle, the speed at which we travel as a family.  They are unaware of their power to hurt others, to inflict pain if they are careless, or if they so choose.  Their sinfulness most certainly could send them swerving into the many obstacles of life, crashing into the innocent passerby’s, and ultimately inflicting harm upon themselves and others.  Should I give her the opportunity now to steer alone, she would most certainly do just that.  But she has a loving mother, who seeks to guide her every inch of the way.

So for now, as she steers upon this road of life, she sits in my lap.  I keep one hand on the wheel to keep her safe from harm. If she swerves wildly to the left, I gently and patiently, lead her back to the right.  I keep her on the straight and narrow.  When I sense danger, I slow down.  I teach, I explain.  I show and show again, knowing full well that I have the power to do so as many times as necessary, and that if I teach her the “why” and “how”, that she will learn.

As she gets older, the sweet pink sneakers will be gone.  They will be  replaced with something much more “cool”.  Her legs will no longer dangle off of my knees.  One day, far too soon, her own feet will reach the floor, ready to press the pedals, ready to control the speed of her own vehicle, her own life. Slowly, when I sense she is ready, I will begin to release my grip on the wheel.  I will begin to trust that she can steer her life without my constant leading.  I will watch her carefully as she passes each danger, each obstacle, ready to intervene when and if it becomes necessary, but more and more often, she will begin to drive straight on her own, without my constant vigilance, but never without me completely.  Even when she drives along the road of life without me by her side, I will be praying about the obstacles.  I will be warning her of the road ahead.  I will be forced to trust in the love, and guidance I have poured into her, and hope and pray that it was enough.  It will never be enough to help her avoid every obstacle, but I pray it will be enough to keep her on the straight and narrow, to avoid the calamity of her own sin.

As I travel down my own road, I sense that I too am never alone.  I still tend to swerve wildly from left to right, oblivious to the pain I can cause.  I swerve wildly left in hopes of avoiding danger, and in doing so I have created danger of my own.  Thankfully, the Lord is there, he grabs the wheel and he patiently turns me back onto the road I must travel.  I lean my head back and say, “Thank you, Daddy”. He just smiles.  He keeps His hand near, for He knows how foolish of a child I am, and yet He never tires of leading me.  He patiently points me back down the straight and narrow.  As I mature in my faith, and in my walk, He slowly releases His grip, and it pleases Him to do so.  He smiles as my sweet pink sneakers stretch towards the pedals.  He is pleased as He watches me pass each obstacle, each opportunity for sin, unscathed..

When I am tempted to worry about how I will know which way to steer the sweet pink-sneakered girl, I remember, that it isn’t me in control at all.  For if I am lead by a patient Father, then He is certainly guiding me in leading us both.  He simply uses my hands, my feet, my voice, my kiss, my mothering as a tool to change the course of the sweet, pink-sneakered girl.  I must trust that He, and He alone, will guide me.  I must be sensitive to His correction, and resist my urge to grab hold of the wheel and direct it along the road I wish her to travel.  I must pray, and pray some more, that there is less of me, and more of Him.  Not only for the sake of the sweet pink sneakers, but for my own sake as well.

So for now I enjoy the pink sneakers, and the fuzzy pony tail, and the legs that dangle, and the work that goes into the constant need for guidance, and it is a lot of work.  But I know one day far too soon, she will be sitting in the seat alone, and I will be looking back on all these moments and wonder if I did enough.  Did I teach enough?  Did I explain enough?  Was I patient enough?  I will be praying I helped her see the obstacles and possible calamity of her sin.  I will trust that the Father will help her to steer.  He is much more patient than I, and ultimately, He was there all along.  The teaching, the showing, the modeling, the explaining, the loving, was really Him all along.  He simply used me as a means to to do His will.  Not that He needed me, because He controls the vehicle, but if it pleases Him to use me to do His work, it pleases me to do it.

I will not grow weary of the moments I need to slow down, the moments that I need to explain the obstacles ahead, the moments that she looks back with a smile. And I will patiently wait for the moment that the Lord guides me to release my grip, and be ever so thankful that He is the one in control, and has been all along.  And I will not grow weary of the pink sneakers, and the legs that dangle, and the fuzzy pony tail that tickles, and smiles that come when she is pleased she has avoided a danger, because these are my gifts along this road.

Lord, thank you for never letting go, never giving up, for never letting me travel alone.  Thank you for pink sneakers, and pony tails. Thank you for slowing down, and teaching me, and taking the wheel when I am in danger.  Keep me on the path, keep me away from sin, and keep me on your lap, where you can guide me, and smile at my own childishness, and my own sweet pink sneakers.