Recently, we took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese. This was a different visit from the one when Kenny got his tokens stolen. This visit wasn’t for dinner; we just took them so they could play all the games.
Lindsey is a fun kid to trail after as she chooses game after ride after game. Once when I was following her, she chose a game designed for little kids where the player has to steer an actual car along a wide, gentle track. The idea is to try to stay in the middle and not run over anything on the sides. Lindsey did pretty well for the most part, even though that game doesn’t have very responsive steering. But at one point on the track, where she was supposed to steer left, she kept failing to turn and running over the picture of the camel standing just to the right of the track in the grass.
It was kind of funny, actually. Every time she approached, I would say, in a funny voice, “Here comes the camel! Don’t run him over!” or something similar. Lindsey would giggle, do her best to steer to the left, and run over the camel anyway.
And the thought hit me, about the third time the camel met its demise: Someday, I’m going to hand this girl the keys to my car and turn her loose on streets full of unsuspecting citizens. Yes, this girl who can’t even stop running over the camel.
It was a kind of scary thought (though I hope—I pray!—Lindsey’s driving skills will have improved quite a bit by then). But then, I realized something even more mind-blowing: Jesus did the same thing, but in an even more important context.
When He ascended into heaven, Jesus entrusted the furtherance of His kingdom to His apostles and other followers. True, they would have the Holy Spirit, but even so, Jesus was depending on these guys who didn’t even understand what “rising from the dead” meant to spread His kingdom all over the world. He was entrusting the most precious thing on earth—the gospel message—to guys who only weeks before had run away so as not to be associated with Him and even denied Him.
He still does the same thing today. He still trusts imperfect people with the responsibility to spread the good news. And we, in our own power, are far less competent to make an impact for Him than Lindsey is to stop running over the camel. She, in her natural human abilities that God has granted her, will probably learn to drive a car quite well one day. We, in our merely human abilities, can do nothing of eternal value on our own. That’s right, nothing. Jesus Himself even said it: “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.” Yet He has chosen us to be His fellow-workers, and He has granted us the privilege of serving Him in spreading His glory throughout the world, starting right here in our own homes.
So what does all this mean? It means that apart from Him, we’re guaranteed to blow it. Maybe we’d still be decent moms by the world’s standards, but we’re going to blow the chance to be the kind of moms we could be. We need to live in serious dependence upon the Holy Spirit for His wisdom, help, and enabling, every second of every day.
Just as Lindsey will eventually need Driver’s Ed and lots of practice at somewhere other than Chuck E. Cheese, so we as moms need practice. We need training guided by the Holy Spirit. We need to ask Him each day to help us do the job He’s given us to and to make us the kind of moms we want to be.
Consulting Him doesn’t have to take long. It can be as brief as a minute. Each of us has at least a minute per day we can go before God and ask Him to correct us where we need it and build us up when we need that. Let’s do it. Otherwise, we’ll do “nothing”.
John 15:5—”I am the vine; you are the branches. If a [mom] remains in me and I in [her], [she] will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”