She isn’t quite as little anymore as the kid above here, but last night when we cycled home, Melanie asked her dear old dad for help, not being able to put up enough energy for the ride home. Of course she could hang onto my arm, but to me that is not quite comfortable: when I am asked to take control of something, I like it to be control, and not a power struggle. So instead I grabbed the center of her handle bars, and pushed her along like that. She mentioned feeling a bit weird with the power of steering now seemingly emanating from her handle bars, instead of her having to do the steering, but when dared, she even closed her eyes and let me guide her along. All in all, that went quite well, even on the turns. For the final 90 degree turn however, she opened her eyes, and I let go, because she obviously wanted to do that herself…..
Home on the couch, I soon came to the realization that that little gettogether was a typical analogy of our faith: if you can’t hack it, you ask for help, but that implies you must also relinquish control as much as possible, and trust the guidance given. From the other standpoint, if you are helping someone, you must take care to keep them comfortable, and allow them the leeway to do for themselves that which they cannot or will not trust you to do….
But as Obi-Wan said when chased by a big fish in Star Wars: ""There’s always a Bigger Fish!" (to protect you by eating the fish chasing you).