He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and
set my feet upon a rock and established my steps (Psalm 40:2)
As a child, I had many occasions to play in the mud. I loved to make mud pies, adding in a few twigs and fresh grass for texture. While mud pies were easy enough to handle, mud puddles could get a little sticky. On more than one occasion, I would stomp through mud puddles, splashing dirty water all over the place. The problem occurred when my boot refused to come out of the mud. The more I struggled, the more stuck I became. And there I stood, stuck in miry mud until my dad came along, pulled me out, and set my feet upon the rocky ground.
As a teenager I would repeat the same process but with larger toys. I would find the biggest, deepest mud hole I could find then ram my ole blue Blazer through the hole. Sometimes I would come out the other side other times I would slam to a halt in the mud hole. It took a while but I outgrew that, well maybe I haven't but I don't have a 4x4 truck anymore so there's that.
Today I don't stomp in literal mud puddles. But I often find myself mired down in figurative ones. I sink into the mire of worry, doubt, confusion, envy, pride, or depression-and the more I struggle, the deeper I sink into the pit of trouble. It is when I try to take over control of my life that I become mired in the mud once again. Thankfully, my heavenly Father is ready to bring me out of the pit, set my feet on the rock, and direct my steps.
As a child, I had many occasions to play in the mud. I loved to make mud pies, adding in a few twigs and fresh grass for texture. While mud pies were easy enough to handle, mud puddles could get a little sticky. On more than one occasion, I would stomp through mud puddles, splashing dirty water all over the place. The problem occurred when my boot refused to come out of the mud. The more I struggled, the more stuck I became. And there I stood, stuck in miry mud until my dad came along, pulled me out, and set my feet upon the rocky ground.
As a teenager I would repeat the same process but with larger toys. I would find the biggest, deepest mud hole I could find then ram my ole blue Blazer through the hole. Sometimes I would come out the other side other times I would slam to a halt in the mud hole. It took a while but I outgrew that, well maybe I haven't but I don't have a 4x4 truck anymore so there's that.
Today I don't stomp in literal mud puddles. But I often find myself mired down in figurative ones. I sink into the mire of worry, doubt, confusion, envy, pride, or depression-and the more I struggle, the deeper I sink into the pit of trouble. It is when I try to take over control of my life that I become mired in the mud once again. Thankfully, my heavenly Father is ready to bring me out of the pit, set my feet on the rock, and direct my steps.
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