The Garage Door Opener
Last night my granddaughter, Bella, and I were doing one of her favorite things, which is explore my car. It's something she wants to do everytime she comes to my house and last night was no different. She explored it twice--once with her Pappaw and once with her Mammie. (Yes, she calls me Mammie. I have no idea why. Didn't tell her to, but don't care.)
Anyway, standing in the driver's seat, which is where she loves to stand, she pushed every button in the entire car, moved every mirror, pushed open this little glove-box thingy I don't know the name to. (I just know it holds stuff like an old set of keys that has mace on it, preferred customer cards that I no longer use from places like Stein Mart and CVS Drugstore, old sweet and low packets, my ipod and card that I use when I go to Parks & Rec., etc. and the mailbox key I use everyday.) Each one of these she hands me, one at a time, everytime we explore the car. I proceed to hand them back to her and she returns them to the little glove-box thingy I don't know the name to. She stuck her finger into every crevice and little hole that was big enough to stick her finger into, and gave me a paper clip that was laying on the carpet. I showed her how to flip the sun visors up and down and how to swing them back against the window to block the sun coming in at the side, how to open up the mirrors and how to adjust the light from dim to bright. She kissed herself in the mirror probably five times. She wants to know how everything operates--everything, everything, everything. And I will let her do almost anything she wants to do, except move the gear shift from park to drive. Usually there's something we discover that she's never discovered before and last night she found the best discovery yet--THE BUTTON THAT MAKES THE GARAGE DOOR GO UP. THE LITTLE BUTTON THAT MAKES THE GARAGE DOOR GO UP. THE LITTLE BITTY BUTTON THAT MAKES THE GARAGE DOOR GO UP. Do you get the picture here? She's standing in the driver's seat after she's pushed, pulled, opened, closed, lifted, and dropped everything she could possibly push, pull, open, close, lift and drop and she has to have found the best button yet. I tell her to turn around and look. "Bella, turn around and look, honey." "Turn around!" "Turn around!" "Look what's gonna' happen!" "Keep looking, Bella!" "Turn around and look!" And then she sees the door going up. And then she can't believe it. It's so unbelievable that I tell her, "Now, push the button again." And the door comes down. "Now, push it again." And the door goes up. "Now, push the button again." And the door comes down. By this time, she was in disbelief. I knew she was in disbelief because I was right there watching her. Her expression was priceless. Her eyes were as big as saucers. Her eyebrows were raised and her mouth was wide-opened. I knew from her expression she couldn't believe what was happening. The most amazing thing and observation to me was, this little bitty girl who had just made the garage door go up and down was the same little girl, so small, she had to be lifted out of her seat and carried inside so she could go home.
WOW!!! What I had just witnessed was the best depiction of faith I had ever seen. Here we are in this great big world pushing, pulling, opening, closing, lifting, dropping everything we could possibly push, pull, open, close, lift, drop--trying to figure it all out, all on our own, over and over again--how everything operates--when, if we would just turn around and look, there is this itty bitty button, no bigger than the size of a mustard seed, called faith, that if pushed, could release a power so mighty, so great, that the floodgates of Heaven could come down giving us abilities we could not imagine. "The faith goes up as the power comes down." "The faith goes up as the power comes down." "The faith goes up as the power comes down." Amazing! Amazing! Faith.
What does faith require? It requires wide-eyed, eyebrows raised, open-mouthed anticipation of something that's going to happen that's so much bigger than I am that I have to keep turning around and looking, and looking, knowing that it's going to happen again and again because I've seen it happen before. I don't ever want it to stop happening.
Is there anything faith won't let me do? It won't let me go from park to drive (be the one in control) but it will carry me inside when I'm ready to go home.
Anyway, standing in the driver's seat, which is where she loves to stand, she pushed every button in the entire car, moved every mirror, pushed open this little glove-box thingy I don't know the name to. (I just know it holds stuff like an old set of keys that has mace on it, preferred customer cards that I no longer use from places like Stein Mart and CVS Drugstore, old sweet and low packets, my ipod and card that I use when I go to Parks & Rec., etc. and the mailbox key I use everyday.) Each one of these she hands me, one at a time, everytime we explore the car. I proceed to hand them back to her and she returns them to the little glove-box thingy I don't know the name to. She stuck her finger into every crevice and little hole that was big enough to stick her finger into, and gave me a paper clip that was laying on the carpet. I showed her how to flip the sun visors up and down and how to swing them back against the window to block the sun coming in at the side, how to open up the mirrors and how to adjust the light from dim to bright. She kissed herself in the mirror probably five times. She wants to know how everything operates--everything, everything, everything. And I will let her do almost anything she wants to do, except move the gear shift from park to drive. Usually there's something we discover that she's never discovered before and last night she found the best discovery yet--THE BUTTON THAT MAKES THE GARAGE DOOR GO UP. THE LITTLE BUTTON THAT MAKES THE GARAGE DOOR GO UP. THE LITTLE BITTY BUTTON THAT MAKES THE GARAGE DOOR GO UP. Do you get the picture here? She's standing in the driver's seat after she's pushed, pulled, opened, closed, lifted, and dropped everything she could possibly push, pull, open, close, lift and drop and she has to have found the best button yet. I tell her to turn around and look. "Bella, turn around and look, honey." "Turn around!" "Turn around!" "Look what's gonna' happen!" "Keep looking, Bella!" "Turn around and look!" And then she sees the door going up. And then she can't believe it. It's so unbelievable that I tell her, "Now, push the button again." And the door comes down. "Now, push it again." And the door goes up. "Now, push the button again." And the door comes down. By this time, she was in disbelief. I knew she was in disbelief because I was right there watching her. Her expression was priceless. Her eyes were as big as saucers. Her eyebrows were raised and her mouth was wide-opened. I knew from her expression she couldn't believe what was happening. The most amazing thing and observation to me was, this little bitty girl who had just made the garage door go up and down was the same little girl, so small, she had to be lifted out of her seat and carried inside so she could go home.
WOW!!! What I had just witnessed was the best depiction of faith I had ever seen. Here we are in this great big world pushing, pulling, opening, closing, lifting, dropping everything we could possibly push, pull, open, close, lift, drop--trying to figure it all out, all on our own, over and over again--how everything operates--when, if we would just turn around and look, there is this itty bitty button, no bigger than the size of a mustard seed, called faith, that if pushed, could release a power so mighty, so great, that the floodgates of Heaven could come down giving us abilities we could not imagine. "The faith goes up as the power comes down." "The faith goes up as the power comes down." "The faith goes up as the power comes down." Amazing! Amazing! Faith.
What does faith require? It requires wide-eyed, eyebrows raised, open-mouthed anticipation of something that's going to happen that's so much bigger than I am that I have to keep turning around and looking, and looking, knowing that it's going to happen again and again because I've seen it happen before. I don't ever want it to stop happening.
Is there anything faith won't let me do? It won't let me go from park to drive (be the one in control) but it will carry me inside when I'm ready to go home.
Comments
First, what an amazing example of what faith is...truly amazing! And, again I say...Girl, you've got a gift, and I think we all know what that gift is. Wow! Again, you've turned an everyday thing into a wonderful parable.
Second, do you remember one time before Bella was born, I think, or maybe when she was just born, you said something to me like, "I hope to be the kind of Dani you are to my grandchildren one day"? Well, you, my friend, are an incredible...Mammie! :) Isn't it just the most incredible thing?!