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The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer. – Psalm 18:2 (NIV)
For He will deliver the needy when they cry out. – Psalm 72:12 (NIV)
I should have known better than to even try.
But when my daughter-in-law, Rachael, called Wednesday and kindly chastised me for neglecting our Tuesday-Thursday exercise dates for the past month, I told her I’d see her the next day.
I figured by 1:00, the warmer temperatures and the rain would melt the mess in the driveway and the lane. So after a light lunch of yogurt and granola, I laced up my hiking boots, zipped up my Carhartt hoodie, stuffed my exercise sneakers in a plastic bag, and grabbed an umbrella.
I could have waited until it stopped pouring. I could have said “Nuts with it” when I saw the ice in the driveway. I could have driven my truck the two-tenths of a mile to Rachael’s.
But I wanted to walk. The recent parade of snowstorms, frigid temperatures, and wind had intimidated this senior citizen to stay indoors. I missed being outside. When I bundled up and stepped out into the winter sunshine for a one-mile walk, I felt better for days.
There was no sunshine Thursday. Only overcast skies and, when I headed for Rachael’s, a downpour. But I was determined to walk the short distance. I mean, how bad could it be?
Sometimes being stubborn isn’t good.
I surveyed the rain-covered skating rink that was my driveway. Too risky. I headed for the yard, where the snow would give me traction. Not a good idea, considering the snow came to my knees. I tried stepping in the deer tracks, but still I landed on my tushie. If any of my neighbors had been watching, I’m sure they could have gotten a good submission to America’s Funniest Home Videos.
Somehow I managed to get back on my feet and to the road, where I followed the bare spots. I made it to within a hundred feet of my destination, then stopped. The rest of the way was a sheet of ice. I imagined myself sprawled on the glistening lane in the downpour, unable to get back up. Retreat was a risky option, as the road behind me was getting more slippery by the second, thanks to the rain.
Swallowing my pride, I pulled out my cell phone called Rachael, who backed up her SUV to where I stood and delivered me from my predicament.
Sometimes in life we get ourselves into jams and need someone to deliver us, but we’re too proud to ask. So we slog on, getting ourselves in deeper and deeper.
There is no place in the Bible where it says, “God helps those who help themselves.” On the contrary, God wants us to realize our need for Him (see Matthew 5:3). He’s there for us all the time, any time we need Him, whether the need is great or small (see Psalm 55:17). He is our Deliverer.
If He sent His Son to deliver us from sin’s eternal penalty, won’t He surely deliver us from the sometimes silly predicaments into which we get ourselves?
Oh, He won’t miraculously pluck us up from an icy roadway, but He can send someone to help, show us the way out, or give us the wisdom, courage and strength we need follow His directions.
All we have to do is swallow our pride and ask.
Deliver me from myself, O Lord! Amen.
Special-Tea: Read Psalm 107