The Hand
I sat beside the hospital bed anxiously waiting. How long would it take for the anesthesia to kick in? How long will the test then take? What if he has a reaction to the medicine they used to put him under? He knew something different was happening. He was in a strange place. People were hooking him up to all kinds of electrical monitors and equipment. There were all these people in the room he did not know, all dressed alike.
He looked at me as if to say, “what is going on?” As I prayed silently over him, I reached out and took his hand and squeezed it.
As I did so, I looked down and was struck by the image of my son’s hand in my hand, with identical identifying wristbands.
The hospital had placed those wristbands on us when we arrived for the test. They were proof that he belonged to me, and that I belonged to him. They had our names on them and symbolized our relationship. If anyone had any doubt that he was my son, and I was his father, all they had to do is glance at our hands.
And now here I was holding my whole world by holding my son’s hand. As if I were saying, “you are always in my thoughts, you are constantly present in my head. I will never leave you, abandon you, or ask you to walk through this alone because you are my son. So much so that this wristband is as if you were indelibly marked on my hand. You are mine, and I am yours.
I am reminded of the verse in Isaiah 49:16 where God tells his people the same thing. He says, “See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.”
God tells his people he has written their names on his hands. In other words, he says, I have marked you as belonging to me. I never stop thinking about you, I never stop caring about you. I never stop loving you. I have marked you as mine, and nothing can ever change that. I am here, and I always will be.
Sometimes when the storms hit, it’s very easy to lose sight of this.
“Where’s God?”
“Has God left us?”
“ Does God care?”
Am I going to walk down this path alone?
God wants to remind us that he has written our names on his hand. He constantly thinks about us, and would never ask us to go through this journey without his presence.
No matter how brutal a storm you are facing….
No matter how high the waves are crashing…
No matter how strong the wind is blowing…
No matter how high the waters get…
No storm is too great for you when you know where to find your father’s hand.