The Way Out

"Mom, there's something pawing at my window," my oldest daughter, Kahlan, informed me this morning when she came upstairs to eat breakfast.

Now this is not the news you want to hear first thing in the morning. I especially didn't want to hear it on this particular morning, since Steve had left early for work. I looked around me, but it looked like I was the only one left who could take "something pawing at the window" duty.

"What kind of thing?" I asked, hoping it was something larger than a rat and smaller than a bear.

"I don't know. It kind of looks like a mouse, but it has a short tail and it's nose is funny," she concluded, effectively confirming my worst fear. (Okay, maybe a bear would have been my worst fear, but this was a close second.)

So I headed downstairs to take a peek. Sure enough, a little rodent face was peering at me through the window. "Ugh," I moaned, looking around for a solution.

My cat was sitting on my daughter's bed, all but raising a little paw to volunteer for the job. It would be so easy...but I just couldn't do it. Having done some pretty crazy things to save little creatures in the past, I was very familiar with the "it's really gross, but I have to save it" feeling.

So I put together a cozy little container. A warm washcloth, a Tupperware container, and the most important thing - a lid. Hoping that what friends helped me to realize was a vole would not decide to leap inside the window, I eased myself onto the ledge. Sliding the glass carefully to the left, I got ready to spring my trap.

But I missed. And the vole, not realizing that I was actually there to save it, scurried under the leaves to hide.

Frustrated, I closed the window. "Why couldn't it just trust me?" I thought, irritated.

After all, it's plaintive window scratchings were a call for help. It wanted to get out of the hole it was in. It couldn't get out on its own, that's for sure. And here I was, not only wanting to give it a lift out to a better life, I'd even prepared a cozy bed for it to travel in.

I should understand it, though, shouldn't I? Because I have been in that little vole's place.

I've had so many times where I've been stuck in an emotional or situational hole with no obvious way out. What's the first thing I do when I realize I need help? I cry out to God. "Help me, Lord. I need to get out of this and I can't do it on my own."

How many times have I run to hide when He presented a solution? How many times have I said, "I can't do that," because I can't see what the end of His path holds?

How many times have I chosen to stay in the cold, dark pit instead of climbing into His hand?

Too many times.

I want out, but I want to be in charge of the terms. I want to know what I need to do, how I'm going to get there, and who I'm going to meet on the way. But God doesn't work that way.

That's why it's called a leap of faith. When we choose to jump, we're telling God that we trust Him to catch us, carry us, and journey with us to safety.

If that vole could know that I mean him no harm, he'd have let me help him. Right now he'd be frolicking in a huge gully instead of panicking in a cold egress window. But there is no way for him to know.

We are so much more blessed. God tells us that all we have to do is ask, and we shall receive. "Until now you have asked for nothing in My name; ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be made full." (John 16:34)

"Dear Heavenly Father, help us to trust You when we are scared. Help us remember that You know the paths in front of us, and that even though they won't always be easy, You've promised that they will all work together for our good. Thank you for being patient with us. Amen."