Eyes Opened

Michele's family had been given use of a beach condo in New Smyrna for the Labor Day holiday weekend. Despite much to do here, we decided the time with them and a refreshing respite seaside were time better spent.

Down from where we were playing in the sand and water were a handsome thirty-something couple and his twenty-something sister. The younger woman had the cocked head, exaggerated smile and halting gait of a muscular dystrophy patient. There were no wheelchairs in soft sand casting shadows on this sunny day. He supported her with a constant touch - his hand on her waist when she could carry herself in the water or on the sand, his arm wrapped around her waist or shoulders when she needed his strength to uphold her. Her thin legs looked spindly, like a newborn fawn testing its legs for the first time.

It was like watching a dance as he deftly anticipated her needs. Surely this was not the first time she had relied on him but instead a practiced routine as she relaxed completely in his arms and in his attentiveness.

Then he held her sitting in the water between his legs like a father would his little girl, lifting her quickly at the last minute when the incoming tide threatened to wash over her head. And her laughter filled the air at the pleasure of it and the delight of being rescued before being doused. He beamed with a joy that matched the sound of her laughter. His wife stood several yards away watching, smiling, enjoying. I wondered if she thanked God for her sister-in-law's special needs that made her husband such a practiced protector and giving man. He never stopped touching her until she was safely placed in a lawn chair where her feet could dangle in the incoming water.

I remembered the words from Isaiah 43 that the LORD has used so often to remind me of His constant presence as I embark on some new adventure with Him: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you."

I am the disabled girl unable to go it alone. But He is the attentive brother, always carrying and guiding me with His strength, always touching me in reassurance, letting me know He is always there.

May my laughter fill the air as I step into new waters.