Holding Hands

I love being a daddy. Have I ever mentioned that? As unexpected and undesired as it was, the love that I have for my son literally pains me. At his little stage in life, there’s one thing that he does that so moves me. It’s nothing extravagant or some grand fruit of obedience. It’s a simple action really. When we’re walking and my son reaches up his little hand to hold mine, something in me is moved in my innermost being. So much is wrapped up in this little action. Without a word, he’s telling me he trusts me. He needs me. He’s reliant upon me to guide him. Perhaps we’re somewhere he’s never been before and he’s unsure where we’re going. Maybe there’s strangers around and he finds solace in my hand. Sometimes it may even be we are somewhere we’ve been before, but in this place he’s learned to stay close because it’s not a safe place.

I want to be like this. You see, I too am a son. Of course at forty years of age, I’m not referring to walking around a department store holding my natural father’s hand (that would be quite awkward, I would assume).  I long to be so reliant upon my Heavenly Father. Even after all of these years of knowing better, I’m still so often infantile in recognizing my need for Him. I'm still prone to run across the street, where I don’t belong and seemingly forget how I need the care and guidance of His hand.

I’ve been learning a lot more about this lately as my son becomes more and more independent, even at only two and a half.  I don’t want to be a stubborn son. I don’t want to fight the yoke that I’m now under that is so easy. Fears, anxieties, questions, distractions… the patterns of the old me will always fight to distract me from my Father. I’m well aware of that. I’m OK with it too for it’s all part of the journey. That being said, I just want to be a reliant son. Knowing how much joy it brings to my heart when Noah reaches his little hand up for mine - by his own choosing – drives me to want to do the same. I want to surrender my will and way and quietly reach up my hand for my Father’s guidance.

He knows I’m stubborn. He knows that I have to daily lay down my will. He knows my fears. I rejoice over the fact that He’s not just looking for me to perform, He sees my heart. It’s this place that I continue to willingly lay bare and confess my need. I don’t need to be the strong you know. He is my strength. He is my salvation. He is my everlasting Father. Today, I will raise my hand and whisper “Abba Father, I’m in need of you”. There’s no need to shout, He’s already beside me with His hand waiting for mine. What a treasure it is to be a son…. a son of the Most High God.