"Follow my footsteps", his voice barely audible over the howling wind as the swirling snow covered his tracks in seconds. His nearly six foot tall frame meant his stride was much longer than my six year old frame. I took two or three steps to his one. Try as I might, I continued to fall against the drifting snow banks. At last, I sat down and wanted to give up. I was wet, and cold and hungry. He kept shouting for me to follow him. At one point he finally realized it was not possible for me to fight the wind and drifting snow. I couldn't reach the impressions his feet left. He turned around, and pulled me out of the snow. He held my hand and took smaller steps.
I'm sure many times my heavenly Father has done the same thing. Called me to follow Him, and realized when I fell He needed to come back, lift me up and hold my hand.
I Peter 5:6 Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time.