I hold you in the palm of my hand…
Inspired by Isaiah 49:16
I admit that, though I’m usually the source of calm in the midst of turmoil, this hasn’t been the case as of late. I’m troubled by the injustice that persists around us. I’m troubled by the pandemic which only exacerbates the inequities of this life. I’m troubled by our inability to maintain our edge in this battle. I’d hoped that my persistent prayers on all of our behalf would have netted some results by now. I’d hoped and hoped and hoped…
This morning, after I prayed as usual and exercised as usual, I was reminded not to worry as usual. A subtle, but beautiful piece of art caught my eye. On my bedroom wall, a small golden frame houses a white paper sculpture. The image depicts a forlorn child whose face is cupped by the gentlest of hands. Though those hands are intended to be God’s hands wrapped about you or me, they are the most tender hands I’ve ever seen or felt! That image habitually turns my thoughts to my deepest experiences of God because it so beautifully illustrates God’s presence around me and within me. It reminds me that I do know God in the same way that one knows an intimate friend. The best part is that God reciprocates this friendship in very tangible ways.
After revisiting that artwork, I promised to do the same every day. What better reminder can I have that God loves me and all of us passionately, that God remains with us always and that God holds you and me forever in those nurturing hands?
Dear God, please reveal yourself so unmistakably that we cannot miss your presence around us and within us.
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