Holding Hands

The idea of God parenting us just as we parent our own children has been a theme heavy on my heart lately.

This weekend I watched a woman with several children walking across a parking lot. One young son stopped to kick a rock and fell a little behind. The mother stretched her left hand out behind her. She didn’t say a word or even look back at him, but immediately, the little boy ran to catch up and grabbed ahold of her hand. And they kept going, without missing a step.

It seemed like such a strong visual to me of my “walk” with God.

There are times when I am physically connected to Him and we are moving forward together. Then I get distracted. The littlest things steal my attention and I focus on those for what I think are mere seconds, but when I look up, God is still going and there is this distance between us. He doesn’t look back to reprimand me or beg me to catch up. He simply stretches out His hand to me. And my heart catches when I see what I’m no longer holding. I do nothing but run until I can grab onto Him again. When I reach Him, my heart is racing out of fear of being left behind and embarrassment of letting go and relief of being back in step.

And I imagine that He glances down at me from the corner of His eye and gives me a little wink, just like I do for my daughter.

John 3:1 “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!”

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