Holding hands

I love it now that Alina is walking very well and we can go for walks around Melle. I love holding her hand and walking next to her. Most often, she wraps her little pudgy fingers around my index finger, and I envelope her hand with my remaining fingers. This is most convenient because she sometimes stumbles and, in that case, her grip isn't always strong enough to keep her from falling, but mine is. So, if she stumbles and starts to fall, I (usually) catch her because she is not only holding onto me, but I'm holding onto her much more completely and firmly.

This is a lot like me and God.

As I'm advancing through life, I know He's at my side, and I do my best to keep holding tightly to His hand, knowing all the while that I'll never get my hand completely around His hand. I'll never be able to grasp the totality of even one little part of God, so I must be content holding onto the equivalent of His finger. I toddle confidently along until I stumble, and realize with horror that my own grip is not strong enough on His finger to keep me from falling. But the beauty of it all is that, even if my grip is weak, His is strong, and He has my hand held tightly in His own so that I will never fall.