My throat tightens. Blinking back tears I look down at my beautiful baby boy, smiling sweetly up at me. Dear sweet toddler is hard at work with wooden trains on a wooden track in his safe make believe world. Dear sweet husband and I speak in hushed tones about hard things happening in a harsh world. I am a wreck. My words run together and tears flow for this broken world. Dear sweet hubby speaks. He is calm and steady, always.
He points to the sleeping child in my arms and smiles. He reminds me that no matter what we go through in this world, we are held. Comfort and healing can be found. There are arms big enough and strong enough to hold us all. Whether we are delivered from the trial or carried through it, we are held by the Everlasting Arms. Our shelter, our refuge, our strength. God Himself is our ever-present help in times of trouble.
And these, dear friends, are troubling times. Brought to our knees, we pray with an ache in our chests. We intercede as we struggle to breathe. We pray through eyes blurred with tears, vision distorted, as we stare at the screen. Pain. Chaos. Fear. Comfort and security day after day ripped away and replaced with a deep soul-ache, an afflictive need. See the pictures? Hear the stories? I see and hear the heartbreak and confusion, the loss, the grief. It is tragic and poignant and I can’t look away. We wrestle and struggle and bleed to make sense of the evil in this world.
But it doesn’t make sense. I sigh…a deep soul sigh weighted down by grief.
And then…another sigh. This one is different. I look down as my little one snuggles in, face buried in the crook of my arm. He breathes steadily, warm and peaceful. This little sigh is one of comfort, the trusting sigh of one at rest, of one who is held.
I smile and breathe. No matter what is going on around me, in my life or in this harsh world, my soul can rest because I am held. And I trust the One who is holding me.