I live in a house with lots of stairs and a fearless one-year-old who is in constant motion. The potential for tumbles and tears is epic. Of course, my son is attracted to stairs like a magnet and loves to scramble up them as fast as he can.
Thankfully, so far, he’s only fallen down the stairs once and it was just a few steps. It got everyone a bit riled up, to put it mildly. But normally, the parent on watch is right behind him, encouraging his independence while making sure he doesn’t crash. We serve as a human safety net, ready to scoop him up in our arms when his chubby little foot slips.
The other day, while I was on watch, Luke exited the room we were in and headed for the closest set of stairs without me noticing it. When I finally caught up with him, he was in full ascent. Luke was so laser-focused on hoisting his diapered booty up the steps—making funny grunting noises as he climbed—that he was completely oblivious to my presence looming right behind him.
As I stood there, amused, God struck me with a deeper truth on display in this everyday moment. Just as I am always watching out for Luke—even when he is utterly unaware, God is always omnipresent in my life. He is the Father who cheers me on as I rise and scoops me up in everlasting arms after my epic fails. He is before me and behind me. He is with me and he is for me.
Psalm 139:1-5 1 You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. 2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. 4 Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. 5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
He is all these places and all these things, but most days, do I even notice? Do I really care? Sometimes I genuinely forget he’s there, and sometimes I just outright ignore Him. I scramble away as fast as I can in the opposite direction like a mischievous toddler. I’ve always been the child, prone to wandering; however, now I can relate to the enduring parent in this scene, too. There are some truths that only life experience can illuminate.
Psalm 121: 3-8 3 He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber; 4 indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. 5 The Lord watches over you— the Lord is yourshade at your right hand; 6 the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. 7 The Lord will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; 8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.
I don’t think the psalmist is trying to say the Lord intends for us to have perfect lives, free of hurt and always on the up and up. When we fall, we don’t bounce off some puffy, heavenly pillow; sometimes we nosedive with a thud. Sometimes we get banged up bad. And sometimes Dad says, “I told you so.” But those moments of harm and learning are ultimately cushioned and put in context by his overarching love.
Psalm 121 makes it clear the Lord is watching over our lives. I don’t know about you, but I am so glad. If I’m honest, my heart yearns for this kind of vigilant attention and care—for someone who knows when I’ve left the room and when I return. To quote one of my favorite songwriters, Sara Groves, He is my “Audience of One.”
When I’m 90, I hope I still remember this simple picture of love. The chubby legs and feet. The diapered bottom. The wild, fearless scramble toward freedom. The parent watching the journey unfold. The emotional readiness to be there no matter what comes next: triumph or despair.
Here’s to daily remembering and loving your Audience of One, who never slumbers or tires of you. Let His steady presence give you the boldness you need to move forward without fear.
Sarah Weller 