Tip of My Iceberg

They watched and waited so long for her to learn to walk, urging her to try harder as she stood and rocked back and forth, squatted down, rose back up, then sat. Her big sister was her biggest cheerleader, telling her she could do it.

They’re now rethinking their enthusiasm.

Thea was a very fast crawler, and trying to walk just seemed to slow her down. She had places to go to, objects to investigate. Slow didn’t cut it. Why wobble on tiny feet when you can get to where you want to go on all fours?

Thea not only learned to walk, but she also learned to climb, like a little mountain goat. She’s gotten onto tables, desks, and chairs, standing proudly with a huge grin as if to say, “You can’t slow me down.”

Her parents have learned the value of containment.

They have an eight-piece corral that hooks together a massive enclosure that restricts Thea’s adventuresome spirit. It keeps her from climbing onto surfaces she shouldn’t be around, including stairs, which she can ascend easily but not descend.

Containment is for her protection.

She doesn’t appreciate it. She doesn’t realize she needs protecting.

Too often in life, we see something we want to do, want to achieve, but we become blindsided by the possibility of excitement and ignore the reality of certain danger. Evil Knievel, the famous stunt motorcyclist, continually tried to prove his ability to defy death. On December 31, 1967, he attempted the longest jump of his career, over the fountain at Caesar’s Palace Hotel in Las Vegas. The jump was 141 feet, and though he made it over the fountain, he landed poorly, and ended up in the hospital for 29 days for a crushed pelvis and multiple broken bones.

He didn’t realize he needed protection. He didn’t learn. Four months later, he made another jump over thirteen cars, proving himself to be the death-defying wonder.

As a baby, Moses had no idea he needed protection from the harsh demands of Pharaoh, who wanted all Jewish baby boys drowned after birth. His mother hid him for three months, then she placed him in a waterproof basket and floated him down the Nile to be found by Pharaoh’s daughter. “She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. ‘This is one of the Hebrew babies,’ she said.” Exodus 2:6

She knew she was going against her father’s wishes, but her compassion protected Moses. She had Moses’ mother nurse him for her. “When the child grew older, she (Moses’ sister) took him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, ‘I drew him out of the water.’” Exodus 2:10

Moses couldn’t protect himself, but his life was spared by the most inconceivable person–the daughter of the one who wanted him dead. She was able to contain her father’s displeasure and was able to raise a Hebrew child in the Egyptian court. Moses later went on the save the Israelite people from slavery to Pharaoh.

Protection comes in many forms. For Thea, it was from parents who sought her safety. For Evil Knievel, it was good health insurance. For Moses, it was a compassionate Egyptian woman willing to disagree with her father.

Ultimately, our greatest protection comes from God. He protects us from eternal death.

When Martha confronted Jesus after the death of her brother Lazarus, “Jesus told her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in Me will live, even after dying. Everyone who lives in Me and believes in Me will never die.’” John 11:25-26.

The greatest protection God offers us is the forgiveness of all the wrongs we do and an eternal place with Him in heaven.

That’s the kind of containment I can appreciate.