We are all "Gideons"

This plaque reminds me of God's gifts

Sitting in our garden window is a plaque from my sister that says, “Faith is not just hoping miracles will happen but recognizing when they do.” Many times God gives us too much to handle alone. This, however, is by design—divine design—to allow for miracles and to keep us from becoming prideful. 

I think of Gideon whose army was reduced from 32,000 to a mere 300 men. God deliberately set Gideon against great odds so he would acknowledge that the miraculous victory came by God’s hand and not by his own. 

Once a man spoke of getting his new truck stuck in deep, fresh snow, unable to get it out until he filled the truck bed with lots of heavy wood. Ironically, his heavy load is what finally gave the truck enough traction to move forward. Challenges and heavy burdens can be precisely what saves us, and often what they save us from is our own pride.

My mother raised thirteen children, and she did it well. Now ninety years old and living alone, she recently recalled those intense mothering years with astonishment, saying, “I really don’t know how I ever did what I did.” Yet, not very many years ago while visiting me, she had a moment when she came to understand her accomplishments better. During a church lesson, the instructor spoke of God sending angels to assist us. For the first time, Mom realized that, in addition to her incredible energy and great health, many angels must have also helped with her mothering.

Not so unlike my mother, I felt quite self-reliant as a young mother . . . until my husband was called to serve in multiple bishoprics (the leadership of a church congregation). At first, it wasn’t so bad. We only had a couple of children, and, if I really needed his help during church, I could usually find him to hold a child or help me with some of the other normal parenting demands. 

Then, he was asked to serve with a congregation that met across town. Pregnant with our third child, I was beginning to feel out of control, especially at church. (In fact, one Sunday, I took both children out of the meeting and went to a cry room...so I could cry!) Soon after our baby was born, my husband was released from his responsibility, and I, thinking I was so clever, went around announcing, “There is a God in heaven!”

But I was smug and, evidently, had not yet learned to have sufficient humility. 

Not too many children or years later, my husband was called to be the bishop of our own congregation. This meant he would be gone almost all day every Sunday as well as many times during the week. Now homeschooling four children under the age of 10 and pregnant with our fifth child, I approached Sundays with a predictable tenseness. Because I was trying to manage alone, I was often too busy to recognize unusual and unexpected aid. For example, each week after church meetings, with a car full of what I thought should be hungry children, I would brace myself to hear whiny cries for food. Instead, when we arrived home, my little brood would scurry off and play together. This went on week after week before I finally realized their lack of interest in food was not just a fluke. Certainly, this was a tender mercy custom-designed for me, a mother already stretched to her limits. More quietly and humbly this time, I again acknowledged there truly was a God in heaven.

Aren’t we all “Gideons?" Don’t we all face odds too great and challenges too big to manage alone? God is always pulling more than His share of the load. We just don’t always recognize or acknowledge His help.