I protect Jedd from falls.
I protect my ears from sustained high-decibel levels of the lawn mower, the vacuum cleaner, and rushing wind on the motorcycle, and thumping bass in overblown teenage speakers.
I may even protect my aesthetic sensibilities from sounds that offend, such as doubled octaves in four-part music, or other anomalies.
I protect my eyes from Tasmanian-devil weed eatings.
I protect our finances, as much as possible, from downturns and careless spending.
I wonder if I ever give 10% as much thought to protecting my soul. I think it needs protection from faculty meetings and certain coworkers, from student newspapers and national newscasters, from crime dramas and sitcoms, from mounting responsibilities and vocational angst, and more.
Sometimes I wonder, when it’s raining or threatening to rain and I have to use more gas in four wheels than I would have on two, whether God might be protecting me from a motorcycle or bicycle injury. No one could know what else He is protecting me from, and how He is accomplishing it.
The Psalmist wrote, “He will not let your foot slip. He who watches over you will not slumber.” And my mother, who is in touch with God and with the Psalms, likes saying to little children when putting them to bed, “Go to sleep. God is awake.”