A God Who Never Leaves

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H_Lisha

He himself is before all things and all things are held together in him.

– Colossians 1:17

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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 hold me fast.

– Psalm 139:9-10

I watched a mother and child holding hands as they walked along Park Avenue recently. From behind I noticed their fingers gently but securely entwined. My eyes followed their connection which, despite the typical overcrowded sidewalk choreography, never wavered. She never let him go. And the boy, he held fast to his mama. I don’t know the details of their steadfast pairing but God whispered in my noticing, “You are held. Hold on, I won’t let you go.”

I knew in that moment the complete security of a Mother God who never leaves. God will bear. God will carry. God will sustain.

God’s love never fails.

My spirit knows things that my heart struggles to comprehend and my mind knows things this flesh never will—but God holds me. His shepherding of my spirit is a fearfully and wonderfully made gift. Oh, that I’d not be too afraid to receive it.

I hear God saying, “Rest. Trust.”

I’m learning to live the trust I experienced in my first encounter with the Bible—my first wild, outrageous introduction to God as Most High, the great I Am. When I simply believed enough to trust God with my life and gave God permission to fill me, to reveal himself to me; when I said, “Yes” to the divine truth of Christ revelation.

Draw near. God sits in the middle of your everyday life … in the shadows and confusion and in the hopeful promise of Selah. We are held in the center of our situations, because Jesus is there. We don’t have to chase down a spiritual experience to know the forever of His covenant.

We forget we were birthed in the nativity of God’s love. Like the image of the Christ child in the manger, we’re given life in the powerful beauty of His coming. We are babies. The raising of our consciousness to see light in darkness is just another level of our communion with Him. But we’re still just babies.

The gentleness God displays toward us is something we can trust. I’m encouraged to press into that place of vulnerability—to remember the tender feeling of being held and cradled in the love of a God who’s fixed His eyes on me. If I relax and listen I hear the voice of Immanuel singing over me.

At the intersection of faith and grace I raise cupped hands to heaven to catch the manna coming down. God fills and then takes my hand. I am captured and captivated. God will not let me go.

I’m held in the presence of a God who sustains my wandering. This journey that began as a search for things now finds me looking only for the spirit remembrance of a Savior. Each day I’m sent afresh on this quest, knowing I’m safe with God’s spirit in me.

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Image credit: Sjoerd Lammers

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