Most of our children and grandbabies were here for dinner Saturday night. My daughter-in-law, Lydia, and two of my sons are exercise buffs (they certainly didn’t get that gene from me!) so after dinner, I told them to try my mini stair stepper with resistance bands that I’d bought several weeks earlier.
Each of them took a turn and the machine clinked and the resistance bands swished through the air. Ava and her cousin, Anna, watched in awe.
Anna piped up, “Grandmama, I want to do that!”
She’s three and strong. She picked up the bands and began pushing with her feet on the pedals. They moved—slowly—but she was so excited.
Of course two-year-old Ava wanted a try. “I want to do it!” She climbed onto the stair stepper, picked up the resistance bands, and moved her little feet to make the pedals work—but nothing happened. She wasn’t strong enough to make them move. Her little face fell in disappointment.
My daughter-in-law, Lydia, eased up behind her and quietly slipped her foot towards the back of the pedals.
I said, “Ava, try again.”
She pushed with her right foot—and the pedal moved slowly. The look on her face was priceless. Then she pushed with her left foot—and that pedal moved. A huge smile stretched across her face. “I did it!”
She didn’t see the aunt who loves her who was pushing the pedals for her.
I wonder how many times in our lives we’ve said, “Look what I did!” and we neglected to see those nail-scarred hands assisting and controlling the moments of our lives.
I’m so grateful for Someone who loves us enough to guide our footsteps, who comes to our aid when we’re not strong enough to make things work under our own power. Aren’t you?