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A man used to carry his aged mother up and down the stairs of their home in Chicago. And she would grab onto the banister while he was carrying her up or down the stairs and hold on to it so tightly they couldn’t move.

He’d say, "Momma, you have to let go of the banister or we can’t move."

And she looked at him with her plaintive little eyes and said, "I’m afraid you’ll drop me."

I said, "Momma, I’m going to drop you right now. When I count to three, I’m going to drop you!" And then she would let go, and we’d go two more steps, when she would grab on again.

That is in microcosm my interaction with God. I’m hanging on to the banisters of life. I’m hanging on to these little things that make me feel secure. But God loves me more than I love my little mother, and God would never let me come to any harm. God knows where we’re going.

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