Get out of the way

The snow had drifted in places up to a foot, and I hadn't gone to work all week. Now, it was Friday, we planned to celebrate one of my coworkers' birthdays, and I wanted to be there. Even though the driveway was snowed shut, I didn't think it would be a problem. The night before, my dad had told me how to drive out of the driveway without getting stuck. Thinking I knew how on my own and didn't need to hear his plan, I didn't listen closely.

You guessed it: the next morning while backing out of the driveway, I got my car stuck.

My dad saw me inching my way forward only to have to throw it in reverse and lose the ground I'd gained in hopes of gathering momentum as I got myself stuck in a rut, deepening it each time I pulled forward or backward. Without me even asking, he came outside, motioning for me to get out of the driver's seat so he could help.

When it proved too stuck to move without shoveling, I brought out the shovels. My dad started shoveling snow like a madman.

I could see no clear method to what he was so confidently doing. "What can I do to help?" I asked, snow shovel in hand at the ready.

"Get out of the way," he said.

At first, I was offended by what seemed like an abrasive comment: I like doing things for myself, enjoy the satisfaction of understanding how something works and knowing I am the one who accomplished it. It is off-putting to me when it's suggested that I can't do something for myself.

But, as I accepted my dad's answer and watched him much more efficiently and determinedly shovel the snow with a plan in his mind I wasn't privy to so we could both get out of the driveway on schedule, it occurred to me: sometimes, it is nice to let someone do something for me. It is nice to be someone's child and to be childlike in receiving the gift. I don't always have to do everything for myself or by myself; I can allow myself to be taken care of.

My dad got my car unstuck and out of the driveway, and this has me thinking: If a human father can express this type of love and capability, how much more can our God, our heavenly father?

Yet, we are co-creators of our lives with God, and I am always wondering how much of my life is up to me and how much of it is up to God. As I was driving to work, I asked God what my role is in situations like the one I'd just experienced.

The thought came into my mind: "You got it stuck -- that's enough."

Ha ha, I thought, but then I realized the truth of it: My contribution of getting the car stuck was enough. My desire to drive out of the driveway set it all in motion for my dad to come help me when I'd made a mess of things. His help allowed me to drive out of the driveway, fulfilling my original hope and desire to go to work and be with my friends on a fun day. If I hadn't acted on my desire to go or had called it off before my dad started shoveling, I wouldn't have gotten to go. Getting it stuck was enough.

My dad showed me: The things that matter to us matter to God. Like a child, we can do what we can. And then, get out of the way.