She wanted to stretch her legs. She opened the door of the patient room and walked into the hall.
I stepped out, too.
She next wandered into the waiting room. Then out the front door.
I followed her.
But when she proceeded to enter the door to the adjacent building, I knew she was lost.
And I intervened.
“Mama, we’re back this way. Want to come back in here with us?”
She followed me.
* * *
She spent her life living out Psalm 1—delighting in the law of the LORD, yielding fruit in its season, prospering in all she did. Walking with God.
Now in this season, she can’t chart her own course. She may try occasionally, but confusion detours her.
So now she unknowingly is dependent upon us to walk in places she can safely follow. To be the tree planted by streams of water. Not just for ourselves. Also for her.
* * *
Who are you a tree for?