Baby Steps

For anyone trying to overcome an addiction, break a bad habit, solve a problem, or accomplish a goal, the phrase "Baby Steps" is one that is often heard. And rightly so. Too often, I find myself trying to do too much too quickly, which leads to disappointment and discouragement. I have to remind myself that I need to slow down and take "baby steps."
Recently, however, I have learned the true meaning of this phrase, and I owe this breakthrough to my 15 month old daughter. She has been walking now for a little over 4 months, and as I watch her prance back and forth through our house, I am amazed at how far along she has come. Anyone with children will understand what I mean. I remember her first "steps," that promenade around the coffee table, always with one hand securely clutching the edge. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she walked across the room. And then she fell. This pattern has been repeated now for the past 4 months. Walking, followed by falling, followed by more walking, followed by even more falling. At first, it seemed that there was more falling than walking, and at times it was necessary to revert back to crawling. One such instance occurred every time she wanted to walk into the bathroom. Because of the difference in flooring materials, there was a step-up into the bathroom. Nothing big, maybe - and I mean maybe, 1/4 inch. But this obstacle proved to big for this beginner. She would put her hands down in the bathroom, and then her legs would follow in perfect "crab-crawl" fashion. I remember looking at her do this and laughing. I barely ever realized that there was a difference in floor height there; what for me was merely a small bump, was for her a large barrier.
So it is in life. We struggle every day to overcome challenges and break strongholds, challenges that to some may seem insignificant. But to those struggling to find freedom from addiction or relief from a destructive fear or mental affliction, they are mountains. And to cross these mountains, we focus on the finish, on the prize, and set off on our journey taking "baby steps." I used to think that this meant that I was supposed to take small steps - don't expect too much, set small goals, and the like. But I know now that all along I have been missing it. Baby steps are "baby steps" because they are beginning steps. They aren't fancy, they aren't very quick, and they definitely aren't always "good" steps.
But they are determined, purposeful, exciting, and momentous. When my daughter first began walking, she always walked in a straight line. If she wanted to turn, she would stop, face the direction she wanted to go, and then continue. She walked with intent and purpose, her eyes focused on her destination. And we already know about the obstacles - some as big as 1/4 inch steps and some as small as, well, nothing. Sometimes she would fall for no reason at all. She just lost her balance. But I never remember the falls. I know she does, and I can picture in my head what it looks like, but not like I do when I think of her walking. Walking is momentous. It's huge. Even wobbly, unstable, flat-footed steps are an accomplishment. I've never been more proud as when I watch her walk. To see the determination in her face - it is so beautiful.
Of course, I know how to walk backwards. I can walk over and around things. I can walk taking really big steps, or very small steps. I can walk a straight line at the request of a police officer (not that I have ever had to do this). I can walk with my eyes closed. But that's not the point. Too often we get caught up thinking about how someone else would never be struggling with this fear or be having these thoughts. If we were a better person, we would never have fallen into this habit to begin with. God has shown me that we have to look at our problems, our situations, through the eyes of a Father. In overcoming my demons, I can't expect to be jogging or "two-stepping." I can't expect never to fall. I have to realize that sometimes I am just going to loose concentration and fall. Sometimes, I may even have to crawl for awhile until I get back on level ground. But all the while, my Father will be watching. He will be there to pick me up when I need it. He will move mountains that block my path. He will hold my hand when I can't figure out how to get to where I want to go. And all the while, through the walking and the falling, he will be smiling proudly, ever encouraging me to take the next step.