As I lose myself in her presence, awareness wells up in me and bubbles out in a smile and giggle of recognition. Waiting patiently for me to notice her is God’s “National Geographic” star among walking buddies. I’m energized, excited, and feel all silly inside over this quirky gift. God has given me spiders, mosquitoes, and lightening bugs, but a walking stick—how clever is that?
When Twiggy finally lifts her pencil-lead thin legs, I notice that she is minus her own right “walking stick.” Wonder of wonders, a walking stick can regenerate an appendage. There’s even a rumor afoot that, if beheaded, a “Carausuis” (Twiggy’s swanky scientific name) can reincarnate its head and reconnect it with its body. Alas, the nerve cord cannot reconnect, so I think that means Twiggy would essentially be rendered brainless.
In spite of her handicap, Twiggy motivates quite well and I follow her progress as she struts across the fence rail and scales effortlessly up a brick wall. I position myself in her path and she traverses my pant leg, ascends my torso, and tickles—EEK!—my neck with her “toes”.
Lest she inadvertently take a nose dive under my blouse, I delicately usher her to a nearby bush where she clambers up one stem and down another, teetering on the tips of twigs, the girth of which is similar to her own. Not deterred by dead ends, Twiggy shifts into reverse and inches her way back down the route she came to locate a safer pathway. This unassuming aerialist dangles capriciously while the wind whips the bow at will. Being a klutz from birth and afraid of heights, I really admire this about her.
Do you ever feel “up a stem without a walking stick”? I sure do. While the journey into difficulties is often a breeze, backing out of sticky situations is arduous. When I dangle over danger, the winds of worry whipping me into a frenzy, I need to lean on my Divine Walking Stick for stability and guidance.
Proverbs 3:5-6 NKJV