If you are a parent you’re familiar with this persistent plea as a tenacious toddler pulls on your pant leg. I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t eventually relent and pick the child up.

And what happens after we give in and the child is in our arms? The pleading subsides and the child is happy and comforted. Safe -protected from harm. Embraced in the arms of someone bigger, stronger.

I recently heard a pastor suggest that we visualize ourselves as that child when we raise our hands to worship. I’d never considered that before and I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now. What if I, like that tenacious toddler, consistently begged the God of the universe to “pick me up?” What if my heart and attitude cried out for Him constantly – even when my hands weren’t in the air and I wasn’t in the midst of a weekly worship service?

I believe my life would be transformed.

He would, without a doubt, hear my petition and welcome me in His arms. Although I know He is always with me, the desire to deny myself and be led by Him would sooth any sense of anxiety or temptation of self-reliance.

Take my life Lord…