A Lesson from “Little House”

I love the show “Little House on the Prairie.”  One of my favorite episodes is “The Third Miracle.”  Mary Ingalls and her husband, Adam, are traveling by stagecoach to meet a train.  But on the road, an axle on the stagecoach breaks, and it flips over and rolls down a hill.  Adam is pinned under the stagecoach, the driver is dead, and only Mary is uninjured.  She realizes that Adam will die if she doesn’t go get help.  Blind, exhausted from the accident, and dripping in sweat from the intense heat, Mary begins to make her way up the hill towards where she thinks the road is.  She slips, hits her head, and is knocked unconscious.  A fire starts, and she comes to—only to find herself surrounded by flames.  She’s completely disoriented.  She’s blind.  And there’s a fire raging all around her.

Charles, her Pa, has gone looking for her because the stagecoach didn’t arrive.  He sees the flames, hears Mary’s cry, and calls out to her.  Mary hears him, and she runs into his arms.  Pa wraps his arms around her and pulls her out of the flames.

Every time I watch this episode, I cry when Mary runs into Pa’s arms—her relief at being saved from the flames is palpable.  I can relate, on some level, to what Mary is feeling before Pa saves her.  I, too, have felt terrified, completely lost, and blind to anything but my immediate problems.  I want somebody to run to.  I want somebody to wrap their arms around me and pull me out of the flames.

My mom—my spiritual mentor—has always quoted Psalm 62:11-12 to me: “One thing God has spoken, two things have I heard: that you, O God, are strong, and that you, O Lord, are loving.”  I’ve heard Mom say that verse so many times—but in all honesty, it didn’t mean much to me until I experienced God’s love and strength for myself. If I had no history with God—no first-hand knowledge of His strength and love, it would be very hard for me to trust Him.  Would you run into the arms of a person you didn’t know and trust them with your life?  I wouldn’t.  I need to know from personal experience that I can run into God’s arms, and He will always, always save me.  He may not do it the way I’d like.  He may let my circumstances be as difficult as Mary’s—but my history with Him as His beloved daughter tells me that I can look up from the flames and run straight into His arms.

There’s a song that’s been out for a couple of years now, called “Unsteady.”  When I first heard it, I thought of my husband, Monty, because of the lyrics: “Hold onto me—‘cause I’m a little unsteady.”  I am—physically and, so often, emotionally.  The other lyric that made me think of Monty is “If you love me, don’t let go.”  And Monty does love me.  But he’s human—he WILL sometimes let go.  My Jesus never will.  So now, I think of “Unsteady” as being about me asking God to hold onto me and not let go.  Because I remember what Mom taught me—He is strong, and He is loving. I can stake my life on that.

I found a video that is set to this song that features a man and woman dancing.  At one point, the woman runs straight into her partner’s arms.  He lifts her, effortlessly, and carries her—just like Pa lifted Mary.  Just like God lifts me.  When I’m scared and don’t know where to go, He saves me from the flames.  When I’m unsteady, He carries me.  He holds onto me, no matter what.  He turns my life into a beautiful dance of redemption and grace.  And He’ll never, ever let me go.