The One Inch Step

We walk up and down stairs every day.
It is an activity we are able to do on autopilot.
We rarely think about the time when we were unable to climb the stairs.
Anyone around small children knows that there is such a time.

I remember when my own children were small.
The stairs seem to call to them.
We put a gate at the bottom so the temptation to climb the stairs was thwarted.
It wasn’t going up the stairs that was a problem; it was the coming down.

Little children learn to walk around their first birthday.
They have been cruising along the furniture for quite a while.
Then comes the day when they let go.
First, it happens without thinking, but as they realize they are unsupported, they fall.

The day those first steps happen on their own is such a joy.
It is news to share with excitement.
It is a whole new world now that the crawling baby is upright and mobile.
Everything is new from this upright position and everything is a curiosity.

Parents can hardly believe the speed with which those little legs can travel.
A child will giggle with glee as he or she runs away from you.
It is a game of catch that a parent can easily win.
It is a game of catch where a parent will gladly feign slowness to hear their child’s glee.

The stairs, having been mastered going up, presents a challenge coming down.
I remember teaching my children to come downstairs.
I would turn them around on their belly so they came downstairs feet first.
That turning is something they learned but, in the beginning, a tumble could happen.

In those early days, no parent can assume that coming downstairs has been learned.
Your heart is admittedly in your throat as you watch them turn right at the top of the stairs.
Very soon, coming downstairs is mastered.
I remember the sound of them coming downstairs quite fast, without fear.

It takes time for them to figure out how to turn themselves around and come down.
It takes a watchful eye on the part of the parent.
A watchful eye, but a restrained hand.
They must learn to do it by themselves with their parent nearby.

All this came to my memory when I watched my youngest grandson.
He is seventeen months old.
He has mastered the stairs at home.
That’s why, what I witnessed made me smile.

We had our two grandsons for an overnight.
It was a beautiful day so we were outside.
The boys were playing on the driveway, on the front lawn, and on the swings.
The older one was going into the garage to get balls and a child’s lacrosse stick.

The younger one followed and was his shadow while they were outside.
I watched him go in the garage.
Realizing his brother was now on the driveway, he wanted to come out of the garage, too.
There is a tiny step from the garage to the driveway, no more than an inch off the ground.

To this little one, it was a step nonetheless.
He didn’t care that it was only an inch high.
He would come down the step the same way he comes down the main staircase.
He turned himself around and slid down the little one inch step.

He got himself up and walked on to play near his brother.
I was watching and smiling at his adorable caution.
It was a step.
Steps were meant to be taken seriously.

When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your unfailing love, Lord, supported me. (Psalm 94:18)

Like my grandson, we learn that steps are meant to be taken seriously.
When we slip or falter, the Lord is there.
He is watching with His tender loving care.
He is ever ready to catch us and lift us up when we call to Him.

I was right there when my little grandson came down the garage step.
If he had faltered, I would have been there to help him.
He had no idea that the step was only one inch off the ground.
To him a step is a step.

I’m glad that the Lord is there when we falter.
I’m glad that His eyes are always on us.
We are never alone.
The Lord is near.