He Holds My Hand

Have you ever looked at a picture and it communicates to you? No, not about the people but about what you see in the picture. No, not something in the background or objects there, but there is just this special something that stirs your heart? I just notice something significant in a picture I received in an email. It was a picture of a tall, bigger then life, long and lanky bean pole of a father standing beside his very young, petite, little bit of a thing daughter. They were all smiles and happy as they stood there holding hands, and she smiled broadly as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Wait. She didn’t have a care in the world.
But, this morning as I looked at the picture, I saw a couple of things. It showed me a father who didn’t have to reach anywhere. He just stood there. With hands at his sides, he seemed to have a proud look on his face as he stood by his little girl. Or it could have been a smile that was generated by someone saying, “smile.” I prefer to think the former.
The other thing I felt and noticed was how they held hands. Even as the dad didn’t have to do anything, the girl had to reach up, just above her shoulders so they could hold hands. From the picture, it’s difficult to tell whether he is holding her hand or she his?
What an astonishing picture of God and us. We need to be doing the same thing as a child of God. He doesn’t have to and He doesn’t need to do anything special to be our Father. He just stands there, ready willing and able to take our hand. We just need to reach out to Him. At times I believe that He is holding tightly onto our hand. At other times we are the ones that need to hold firmly to His. What reassurance we have knowing our father is there and all we have to do is reach up and take His hand.
Many things about tomorrow
I don't seem to understand;
But I know who holds tomorrow,
And I know who holds my hand.
Something to think about.
Rob