I Want to Hold Your Hand-

Where can I go from your spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

If I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

If I settle on the far side of the sea,

Even there your hand will guide me,

Your right hand will guide me fast.

Psalm 139:7-10

Crossing a parking lot with three kids can be a dangerous feat. I breath a huge sigh of relief when I get everyone from the car to the Target entrance on a crowded shopping morning. But in order to keep everyone alive, I often must use the mommy death grip of a hand hold. Not the sweet, "Let's hold hands darling," interlock- but the tight squeeze that says, "I'm not letting go-NO way- NO how- NO matter what." The other day we were crossing the parking lot at Chick-Fil-A and I was holding Beaux's hand. She was trying to wiggle away and all of the sudden I instantly used the mommy death grip of-a-hand hold. She wiggled, wrestled, and fought but I couldn't let go and I tightened my grip. Finally I heard her voice whimper, "Mommy, you are hurting me." To which I explained, if she would hold my hand nicely and just let me walk her to the car, it wouldn't hurt. I am the mommy and it's my job to keep her safe,

even if it hurts.

But even as I read these verses- "Even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will guide me fast"- I see myself as the little girl in the parking wiggling, wrestling, and fighting against God's hand and where it wants me to go. I'd much rather box with him than just bow down to him. I take comfort knowing God can use his death grip hand hold on me. I wiggle, I wrestle, I twist, and I fight against him. I'm sure there are times I even complain,"Lord, you are hurting me," as he tightly holds onto me. The truth is, I am the one bringing pain to myself as I put up the fight. It would be so much easier if I would stop fighting and let the Lord lead me where he wants me to go. But no matter how hard I wrestle, he won't let go. He promises his right hand will hold me fast. I know the Lord must be thinking,"Bridget, this would be so much easier if you would just take my hand willingly and let me lead you where I want you to go, but I won't let you go. I have a firm grip." I'm praying Beaux and I both make it across our parking lots.