Hold to His Hand
The day is overcast, with raindrops occasionally sprinkling through the branches as I meander through a pecan tree grove. I am on a brief overnight ministry retreat with my husband. We have driven several hours to the Texas hill country for a quiet and secluded withdrawal from the rigors of work and family life. Wandering in and out of the coverage provided by the canopy of leaves, I discover a small gazebo and bench near a trickling water feature. This area is elevated with a path sloping down. Gazing out over the serene Guadalupe River that winds its way around the base of the hill, my mind calms in the stillness.
As I take in the beauty and wonder of the nature around me, I begin to softly sing hymns of praise. After several songs, I speak with God in prayer and then finally stand up, return to the bed and breakfast, and begin the transition back into being in proximity with people.
This experience actually occurred several years ago. It was neither the first nor the last time that we had purposefully made a trip to this location. It was, however, a necessary time for reflection and rejuvenation. A time for silence to become louder than all the things clamoring for prominence in my head. A time for stepping away from the things that demand attention, replacing those with communion with God. This practice was necessary to allow me to step back into the conflicts and complications of life, better prepared to forge ahead and do what is required.
Recently, my husband and I visited this place again for a time of refreshment before a particularly busy season of work and travel. We happened to be there on our oldest son’s birthday. He thanked us when we called to wish him a happy birthday. He then expressed ambivalence over feeling gratitude in the midst of other events that day. Two significantly shocking news incidents had occurred and become viral online stories. We acknowledged that each day presents the opportunity to not just feel “either/or” emotions, but rather feelings of “both/and.” It is possible to have sorrow in the midst of rejoicing or to carry both grief and hope simultaneously.
During any given week, thoughts may roll around in our minds, bouncing like a silver ball inside a pinball machine. Mental paddles flip ideas back and forth. Suddenly, new information is launched at us, propelling us in yet another direction. It is not difficult to reach a point of feeling overwhelmed.
How can we find balance when our thoughts are in turmoil from the hard realities of life? Especially during times when we are seeking wisdom, preparing for important decisions, or in need of spiritual strength?
One way is to follow the example of Jesus, who set aside time alone with his heavenly father. He often sought solitude after draining episodes in his ministry. In Luke 5:16, we find that, because vast crowds sought Jesus out to hear him preach and to be healed, he “often withdrew into the wilderness for prayer” (NLT).
Later in his ministry, upon hearing of his cousin’s beheading and burial, Jesus “left in a boat to a remote area to be alone” (Matt. 14:13). The crowds discovered where he was and sought him out, and he returned to minister to them once again. Later that same day, after miraculously feeding the 5,000, Jesus once again went up in the hills alone to pray (Matt. 14:23). He was intentional in both making and taking time to recharge and restore.
During my latest purposeful time of rest and reflection, following the phone call with my son, I made time the next day to sit once again in the gazebo and wait in the stillness. Eventually, a song came to my mind. It is an old hymn, but the message is timely and relevant. The first verse is:
Time is filled with swift transition,
Naught of earth unmoved can stand;
Build your hopes on things eternal,
Hold to God’s unchanging hand!
Here is the answer to holding two things simultaneously—both the good and the bad of life—at the same time: seek and make time to be alone with God, and hold to his hand.
