Held
Last Wednesday brought our first thunderstorms of the season. They began while we were at church for Awana and were forecast to last through the night.
Aden is terrified of thunderstorms, y'all. Our sweet Taz, bursting with energy and generally fearless, comes to a screeching halt with the first rumble of a storm.
Bedtime was calm, and for both boys, could not come soon enough. For they had just returned from an exhilarating but exhausting week-ish in Florida with my parents. Worn out, I tell you. Maybe moreso than Giga and Poppop. Trey and Aden were completely silent in the car on the way home from Awana. Never happens.
Anyhow, sleep came easily and I thought maybe, because he was so tired, Aden might sleep through the storms in the night.
The rising wind woke me at 2:30. Checked the weather on my phone to see a rather large and extremely colorful spot on the radar heading straight for us. Then a similar one, not far behind.
I waited for his voice.
Took a while, but it came. As the storm reached its peak, a wall-shaking rumble of thunder was immediately followed by a full-cry wail of Mama and the thump of sprinting feet. We met in the hallway where he hurled his 50 pounds into my arms and sobbed into my shoulder.
I helped Trey sleep walk to get in bed with Brandon, then Aden and I crawled into Trey's bed, storm still raging outside.
We laid facing each other, and Aden held my hand. Despite being so upset, he was very groggy and seemed to fall asleep between claps of thunder. But with every flash of lightning and rumble, he squeezed my hand and opened his eyes to look into mine.
Still afraid.
But held.
I don't want to forget this. Not just because it is a beautiful picture of the bond between Aden and me. But also because it is such a fitting illustration of God.
Of course I'm not God, and had no power to stop the storm. God does have the power to stop our storms. Sometimes, He does not.
I'll be the first to very humbly and thankfully admit that my life is pleasant and rather uneventful. To those who have lived and breathed injustice, it's a cake walk. Still, there have been world-rocking moments when I have sobbed fiercely, screamed to Heaven for an explanation, begged for healing and deliverance.
Because the world is broken.
It is a pill nearly impossible to swallow, and a great stumbling block to faith, the suffering in life. But I believe God's heart is broken as much as mine. After all, we chose our own way instead of His.
Even in the unfathomable effects of sin, His love remains. And one day, God will stop this storm.
Until then, He hears every cry. He is there to gather us up as we hurl ourselves into His arms. He will catch every tear. He will watch over us, hold tightly to our hand, and when we truly open our eyes to look for Him, He will be right there.
And while our fear may not be lifted, we are never alone.
Rather than deliver us from the storm, He can make us strong in it.
This is what it means to be held
How it feels
When the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved
And to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held
Aden is terrified of thunderstorms, y'all. Our sweet Taz, bursting with energy and generally fearless, comes to a screeching halt with the first rumble of a storm.
Bedtime was calm, and for both boys, could not come soon enough. For they had just returned from an exhilarating but exhausting week-ish in Florida with my parents. Worn out, I tell you. Maybe moreso than Giga and Poppop. Trey and Aden were completely silent in the car on the way home from Awana. Never happens.
Anyhow, sleep came easily and I thought maybe, because he was so tired, Aden might sleep through the storms in the night.
The rising wind woke me at 2:30. Checked the weather on my phone to see a rather large and extremely colorful spot on the radar heading straight for us. Then a similar one, not far behind.
I waited for his voice.
Took a while, but it came. As the storm reached its peak, a wall-shaking rumble of thunder was immediately followed by a full-cry wail of Mama and the thump of sprinting feet. We met in the hallway where he hurled his 50 pounds into my arms and sobbed into my shoulder.
I helped Trey sleep walk to get in bed with Brandon, then Aden and I crawled into Trey's bed, storm still raging outside.
We laid facing each other, and Aden held my hand. Despite being so upset, he was very groggy and seemed to fall asleep between claps of thunder. But with every flash of lightning and rumble, he squeezed my hand and opened his eyes to look into mine.
Still afraid.
But held.
I don't want to forget this. Not just because it is a beautiful picture of the bond between Aden and me. But also because it is such a fitting illustration of God.
Of course I'm not God, and had no power to stop the storm. God does have the power to stop our storms. Sometimes, He does not.
I'll be the first to very humbly and thankfully admit that my life is pleasant and rather uneventful. To those who have lived and breathed injustice, it's a cake walk. Still, there have been world-rocking moments when I have sobbed fiercely, screamed to Heaven for an explanation, begged for healing and deliverance.
Because the world is broken.
It is a pill nearly impossible to swallow, and a great stumbling block to faith, the suffering in life. But I believe God's heart is broken as much as mine. After all, we chose our own way instead of His.
Even in the unfathomable effects of sin, His love remains. And one day, God will stop this storm.
Until then, He hears every cry. He is there to gather us up as we hurl ourselves into His arms. He will catch every tear. He will watch over us, hold tightly to our hand, and when we truly open our eyes to look for Him, He will be right there.
And while our fear may not be lifted, we are never alone.
Rather than deliver us from the storm, He can make us strong in it.
How it feels
When the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved
And to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held
Comments