The Wheelbarrow

"You gotta trust God," she said.
"Do you trust God?"
"Oh sure," I said.
"I've always believed in Him."
"Not the same thing," she said.
"Belief's not trust."
"I don't understand."

"Well, look at it this way:
let's say you go to a circus
and it's got the highest tightrope
you ever saw.
And this guy comes out,
and climbs way up there,
and puts a wheelbarrow on the wire
and begins to walk.
You think:
`He's never gonna make it;
the wire's too thin,
the wheelbarrow's too wide,
and besides, it blocks his sight.'
You hold your breath,
and when he finally gets across
the place goes crazy, and you cheer and cry.
So you keep coming back to watch,
until you're sure he's going to make it."

"Yeah," I said. "I trust him to get across."
"No," she said. "You believe he'll get across.
You want trust, get in the wheelbarrow."

But I just kept watching, as before,
and told myself:
"I do so trust Him."

Then one day, I knew she was right,
and I climbed up to the platform.
It was so high and scary, I thought:
"Maybe it counts if I just watch from here."
But of course that didn't work.
So finally I walked over to where He stood.

"Ah, there you are!" He smiled. "Come on then,
off we go!"

So in I climbed.

I can tell you, I had white knuckles
for a while there.
But then I thought:

"Well, all or nothing!"
and just lay back and looked up
into the soft deep dark of the Big Top
where spangles flashed in the spotlight
and notes of bright, proud music
swarmed like fireflies around my toes.
Then the gentle rocking put me to sleep
like a baby in a cradle.

You should see that wheelbarrow now!
It's got a fridge, a little microwave...
it's where I live!

Oh, and on my birthday, He asked me,
"How did you like My present?"
And I, still not too swift on the uptake, said,
"What present?"
"Don't worry," he said, "it'll turn up."

Next day, I found it
under the corner of my sleeping bag.
It's hard to describe...
I guess you had to be there...
but when the lid was off,
a sparkling, flaming, joyous, bubbling Something
entered my fingertips
and coursed all through me,
and I knew what it was... Myself!

The gift of Self I'd been looking for so long.

"Thanks, Lord," I said. "I love my present."

And He said,

"So do I."

Ann Dickinson Sargent

Source: Awakening, 1990, Andiva Publishers, Ltd. used with permission from the author.