“I’ve Got Your Back” - Shepherd

            A phrase I do not remember hearing frequently, has surpized me in the last three days, at least twice, in totally unrelated contexts.  It strikes me as powerful words of encouragement.  The phrase is “I’ve got your back.” 

            Although I am unaware of the origin of the phrase and could not find a definitive explanation on line, one possible meaning suggested on Yahoo Answers received 50 percent of the votes.  It was the idea that when soldiers are on patrol, the only way that they can be sure to have a 360 degree view of what is going on, is by standing back to back.  Whatever is behind one is in front of the other.  It mentioned that time honoured comment that we do not have eyes in the back of our heads. 

            At a wedding I attended, the best man was praising the qualities of the groom.  He said, “I knew Matt always had my back.”  By that, I understood he was saying, “Here was a friend who I could count on to protect me by watching out for my vulnerabilities.”  I thought that to have a friend like that is a priceless treasure.

            The phrase cropped up again at a long-term care facility, where I am a chaplain.  A worker was helping a frail woman transfer from her wheelchair to a recliner.  “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ve got your back.”  By her chuckle, I knew that the pun was intended.  Yes, she was supporting the elderly woman’s back physically, but she was also there to help and protect the woman and make her feel safe. 

            As my intrigue with this phrase led me to other places on the Internet, I discovered that some folks in Brooklyn, New York have been trying to get a campaign going to address street harassment.  “I’ve got your back," is the code expression they have chosen to try to motivate bystanders to become involved.  When bystanders perceive someone being threatened by a harasser, they are encouraged to ask the person if they need help and assure them that they have got their back.

            “I’ve got your back,” is a term that suggests solidarity.  It is a way of saying, “You can count on me.  I will be there for you.”  What music those words are to the ears of someone who is alone, afraid, and perhaps confused.  Whatever they are facing, they know there is someone who will not take advantage of their weaknesses, and more than that, will be there to step in and offer them strength and courage.  

            If you tell me that you have my back, I know that I can confront whatever is before me, since I will not be ambushed from behind.  You are looking out for me.  What a sense of empowerment those words provide.  They make it possible for me to believe that what I could not do alone, I now can do, because you are there to share the task and ensure that my deficiencies do not cause me to fail. 

            As an encourager, I am going to include this phrase in my bag of tools to help others as I try to practice it.  If they know that I have their back, they will be able to reach new heights and do what they thought was impossible.      

           As a writer, encouraging writers, when I have your back, I can help you express your unique voice without fear and discover how it blends with the voices of other writers to uplift and encourage our readers.  I believe that as The Word Guild this is what we are doing with Hot Apple Cider and A Second Cup of Hot Apple Cider.  We have got each other’s backs.

      

Winner of The Word Guild
Christian Leadership Award 2011

             

A Little Bear Finds Courage - Peter A. Black

The scene is idyllic. Amidst the beauties of mountain scenery an adult male cougar scales a rocky outcrop. Lips pull back and whiskers bristle into a snarl, as his attention fixes on a bear cub rooting around several hundred metres away. The cub, unaware of the predator, frolics in the scrubby grass, grunting with delight, without a care in his world.

Feline fangs bare, and the cougar pants. His tongue shoots out to wash hungry lips. He scrambles down from the rock with a snarl. The cub hears, and now alerted he flees, gasping in fear, with the cougar in pursuit. He bowls along furiously, panting and whimpering in terror. Rippling muscles, hissing breath, padding paws – the cougar streaks after the bear. Will the gap soon close and the big cat make the kill, and the hapless little bear become its dinner?

A fallen tree, partly spanning a fast-flowing river with rocky rapids, offers the cub a glimmer of hope. He clambers along it, but his yelps signal utter despair as, nearing the far end of the trunk, he discovers it doesn’t quite reach the large rock near the opposing bank. Turning around, he faces the approaching predator, which is now on the tree advancing towards him. Still facing the cougar, he shuffles backwards along the trunk, the big cat advancing menacingly. Desperate, he shuffles back further, cowering and whimpering.

The cougar, only metres away, lets rip with a snarling roar of anticipated victory. Suddenly, the upper trunk of rotting tree beneath the bear cracks, breaking off. Bear and wood plunge to the rapids below. He disappears beneath the white, churning waters.

The part of the trunk that broke off resurfaces and floats, and is soon borne along by the rapid current. It is forked with a section of branch. Resurfacing, the cub lunges after it, giving a desperate, plaintive cry, and scrambles onto this ‘raft,’ for the forked formation gives the wood stability in the water. Rushing waters carry the little bear downstream.

Meanwhile, the cougar, although taken aback by this turn of events, isn’t ready to abandon chase – or his meal, and vacates the fallen tree to clamber over rocks and boulders flanking the shore, his plan is evident – intercept the pray further down the river. A series of boulders provides leaping points across the river, and the cougar, now ahead of the bear, positions himself on one – right in his path!

Again, the prey finds himself staring death in the face. Frantic, the cub abandons his raft and struggles in vain against the surging waters. He’s heading straight for the cougar who, like a coiled spring, crouches with muscles tensed, ready to strike.

The little bear makes repeated efforts to get away from being swept into the cougar’s reach, but they are fruitless, for the current keeps bringing him back towards his foe. The cougar leaps onto an even closer rock, and with a great snarl and vicious swipe rips the bear’s snout. But the little guy fights back, snarling and swiping, surprising the powerful cougar.

It’s as though the little bear has found his courage! His snarl soon changes into a light roar. With his fur standing on end, he continues roaring. His voice sounds deeper. The cougar looks up, surprised, then pauses. Completely unnerved, he beats a retreat, slipping and sliding off rocks and getting soaked in the water, while the little bear yells insults with bared teeth.

What happened? Behind the cub, over on the shore, a massive adult bear stands astride, roaring with mouth gaping wide, and waving its forelimbs menacingly!

With danger now past the little guy, with palpable relief, turns around and fairly skips over to his protective parent, to be comforted and calmed – his bleeding snout bathed in loving licks.

~~~

Reflection
In this story I’ve described an amazing You Tube video clip of a short film by Jean-Jaques Annaud that friends forwarded to me some time ago. Perhaps you’ve seen it.

I reflected on how the tables turned for that bear cub, and the reason for the transformation that led to his standing his ground before his foe – the presence of one who was greater than his problem.

Consider the following thought:
God’s weakest child can gain courage and strength when he (or she) knows his Heavenly Father stands ready to back him up.

Isaiah 35:3-4 (NIV) Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, "Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you."

1 Peter 5:8-9a (NIV) Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith . . .

Hebrews 13:5b-6 (NIV) . . . God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." So we say with confidence, "The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"

~~+~~
© Peter A. Black.
Black is the weekly inspirational columnist at The Watford Guide-Advocate,
and the author of “Parables from the Pond” (Word Alive Press; ISBN 1897373-21-X).

Scars Tell a Story

It is one of those stories I have rarely shared – and shared with some reticence when I have done so. Scars have a story to tell and my body seems to have more than it’s share. Many of those scars tell tales of foolishness, some of out-and-out stupidity. Pencil fights as a kid were a strange kind of “fun.” Forty years later tiny gray dots in a hand, a thigh and a shoulder are war-wounds from those battles. Scars across both legs stem from a hay-ride just a few years later. Like so many boys in their early teens, jumping off the wagon and racing across the field was part of the fun. In moonlight, a single strand of barbed wire is almost invisible. At a dead sprint a single strand of barbed wire is a mean but effective way to convince a young boy that he is not quite as smart as he thinks. I will bear those scars to my grave as well.

A small scar on the back of my right hand often causes me to pause and ponder God’s protection. I am frankly skeptical of many tales of angelic encounters, and I’m not ready to make any claims – yet a question always lingers in my mind when my glance takes in that particular scar. I can speak with considerable authority now, about why you DO NOT make the final connection to the poor battery when using booster cables.

Battery acid is a vicious concoction. Leaning over a battery with a set of booster cables when it explodes is not good form. It is not recommended for your health. The human eye is especially vulnerable, and since I was much younger in those days I wore no glasses to give even the most basic protection. I had worked with acids and other toxic chemicals enough to know the risks. It was only a ten meter run to the house, but a fiery ring bordered my face before I got there. I didn’t worry about splattering the bathroom as I leaned over the sink and flushed water across my face over and over.

It was only later that I realized how extraordinary that burning was. My chin, the outer boundaries of both cheeks and my forehead had been drenched with acid. The central part of my face, my eyes, nostrils and mouth were untouched. Holding my own hand up to my face I could protect myself in roughly the same pattern. But my hand had not been there. The scar comes from hitting the hood of the truck. It was a 4-wheel drive pickup sitting high on big tires. I had to step onto the bumper to reach the hood to pull it down. Yet from a hunched position I had jumped high enough at the explosion and struck the hood hard enough to depress a crude boomerang shape into the back of my hand. It never actually bled, but wept a bloody fluid. It scabbed over, throbbed for months and left a scar clearly visible two decades later. With the scar comes that persistent question. If something the size of a man’s hand protected my face from battery acid – whose hand was it?

I don’t have answers, but I have repeated a quiet thank you to God many times when I’ve glanced at that small mark on the back of my right hand. I won’t make any claims of miracles or of angels, but just the same, as I struggle with some of the irritations of growing older, I’m very conscious of the blessing of two decades of good eyesight. It seems appropriate to give thanks to God for that.