When I couldn’t sleep as a child, I would often reach out under the covers to my mother, saying, “Hold my hand…”.
The other night, I found myself asking Jasher the same thing. And as he held my still quite little hand in his, I drifted off to thoughts of asking Daddy God to please “Hold my hand”:
When a toddler reaches his/her hand out to an adult, in that simple act, he/she is saying, “I can’t do this on my own. I need your help. I know you are stronger and wiser than me. I trust you to hold me and be with me. I know you won’t let me fall, and even if I do, you will be there to pick me up, soothe my wounds, and assure me that it’s gonna be ok. I know you can guide me to the place I need to go, protecting me from things I cannot see, and leading me down the best route. Your kind voice will cheer me on, telling me which way to go and what not to do, and when I reach my destination, I know you will celebrate with me. On my own, I am afraid, but in your grip, I know I am safe. So please hold my hand. I am counting on you.”
I never want to lose that same childlike trust in my Heavenly Father. So my prayer today and always will be, “Hold my hand.”
