Tell me what you would do, if a little boy were to plop into your window well.
It has happened before. Spanish is in the basement, and little kids play right outside my classroom while they wait for parents to pick them up from school. It’s always a boy –they can’t resist the ledge and the big hole.
I sat at my desk, calmly finishing up paperwork, and I just smiled at him from inside, as if it was perfectly normal for me to see children trapped in my window. He smiled back, as if that would keep me from paying him any mind.
“Guys?” he said. “Guys, can you help me?”
The panic was rising. He was jumping, but the hole is always deeper than they think. There was no way he could get himself out.
“Guys!” he said. Panic.
Then in dropped a girl. A few inches taller than him, it seemed she thought she could help him out, but she could offer no assistance. Soon she was jumping and hollering for help.
Finally, when it seemed no one was coming to their aid, I went to the window, opened it, and handed out a chair.
“Thank you,” they said. Relieved.
“Please don’t play in the window well,” I scolded, with as much severity as I could muster, even though I found the whole thing amusing.
“We won’t,” they said. Up they jumped, and my window was quiet once again.
Not an unfamiliar scenario. We often get ourselves into quite a spot (for me –usually saying something hurtful to someone, in my customary, impulsive way.) Feeling trapped, we start to panic, but we worry most about getting in trouble and don’t even think to ask God for help.
Here’s what to do:
Call upon me in the day of trouble;
I will deliver you,
and you will honor me.
There you have it. Our relationship is with a God who sees the problem and who does not suffer from panic. He will hand a chair out the window.
So ask for help, friend. Just ask for help.