In His Hands

My favorite season of fall is settling in. Leaves are turning red and yellow hues and the cornfields are spreading out their magic carpets of gold. The goodness of the Lord fills the earth during this season of "mercy" after a hot summer. My daily walks are a time for my eyes to drink in the earth-toned colors and absorb the peacefulness of nature and the refreshing breezes for my mind and body. My walks are also a time of prayer to contemplate God's goodness in my life and pray for others, like close friends who lift us up when we are falling.

Yesterday I was bemoaning to my roommate how I feel like a fragile leaf being mercilessly tossed in the wind, falling after this and that, doing somersaults in the air without knowing where I will land. In my complaining, (this shows how good a friend she is to me), she looked at me and said, "God's got you right in the palm of his hand. You may think you are blowing around, but really you are only fluttering about in the cup of his hands. He's saying, 'I'm holding you. It's okay.'"

Suddenly, that doesn't sound so scary anymore.

Those hands that hold the universe - those hands that bear the wounds of our sins and sufferings - those hands that healed the lame and blind - those hands that lifted up the bread to feed the thousands of hungry people - those are hands that can be trusted to hold the problems of my life and keep me whole.