The High Chair

Our family has a tradition of camping at Snake Creek campground by Platte, SD, over Memorial Day weekend. Since our kids were young, we have met some friends there and made many great memories fishing, playing at the beach, and sitting around the campfire. Even as our kids grew up and my daughter started a family of her own, we continued the tradition, with the grandkids enjoying the same things our kids loved so much.

It was no different on this particular Memorial Day weekend, except that my daughter and I had a bridal shower to attend on Saturday morning. We would drive back to Sioux Falls and return later that afternoon. That meant we left three grown men in charge of three little men. Three very busy little men. Our youngest grandson was just a wobbly toddler, but still got around amazingly quick and always seemed to find any source of potential danger—and a campsite is filled with them! The dangers were real and abundant, from hot ashes and fire pokers to thistles and jagged rocks to the nearby river itself. My parting words to my grown son were, “I don’t care if he has been fed or changed or had his nap . . . just keep him alive!”

Upon our return, they were indeed all still alive. But according to my son, there had been some hairy moments! At one point, he had just plunked the toddler in the little high chair that clamped to the bench of the picnic table and strapped him in. The toddler was none too happy and was quick to let them know. Most of the campground, in fact, likely knew of his disapproval of his incarceration. He shouted and cried and banged on the high chair tray. My son told me, “I didn’t even care if he was mad at me; at least he was safe!”

As I have continued my ministry to the women in the county jail, they sometimes seemed a bit like my youngest grandson. They were quick to let me know how much they hated their current situation—the perceived denial of their rights, their loss of freedom, and how slow the wheels of justice seemed to move. They got mad, they cried, and they banged the table. But at least they were safe! It occurred to me that, just as my son had scooped my grandson up out of impending danger and strapped him safely in that high chair, a loving God had scooped these women up and put them someplace safe. Safe from themselves and their addictions, safe from traffickers and the abuse of others. Not where they might want to be . . . but at least they were safe.

I can’t tell you how many times I have made that analogy to these women. And most of the time, they get it. It was like a holy time-out. What may not seem “nice” may be the most loving thing that could have happened to them. Just as my son had watched that little man run around, narrowly averting disaster time and again, God watches his children run around, narrowly averting disaster. And, unlike my son, God knows what lies ahead! I couldn’t help but wonder how often a timely arrest and necessary (if undesired) incarceration kept these women from something even more disastrous that had been awaiting them just around the corner.

It was an analogy that made them stop and think. It changed their perspective—from one of discontent and anger to gratitude and relief. But, most importantly, it made them think about God differently. Maybe what seemed like punishment could actually be love? For many, the thought of God as a loving Father was hard to grasp. It wasn’t a concept they were familiar with. Many of them didn’t really even know their human fathers. Healthy, corrective discipline was often foreign to them. But the ones willing to surrender their “rights” to their Father were the ones in which I was blessed to see the transformation. With a newfound maturity, they stopped being so angry; there weren’t as many tears or clenched fists pounding the table. Rather, they found acceptance for their current situation and, oddly enough, peace, patience, and even joy! I just pray that I can remember my own preaching when I find myself crying and pounding my fists on the table! God is a good Father, indeed. May I never forget it.

“Now the LORD provided a huge fish to swallow

Jonah, and Jonah was in the belly of

the fish three days and three nights.”

Jonah 1:17 NIV

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,

whenever you face trials of many kinds,

because you know that the testing of

your faith produces perseverance.”

James 1:2–3 NIV

“Blessed is the one whom God corrects;

so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.”

Job 5:17 NIV

“The LORD will keep you from all harm—

he will watch over your life;

the LORD will watch over your coming

and going both now and forevermore.”

Psalm 121:7–8 NIV