While wandering around a tourist town with family, my great nephew, age two and a half, became tired of holding his father's hand. He wanted to run free and go in any direction that took his fancy.
His father offered to switch hands. "No hands," came the defiant reply accompanied by a vigorous shake of the head. On being told that he must hold hands to stay safe, he looked up at his father hopefully and said, "Hold my own hand."
I thought about how often I had done the same, refusing to hold God's hand, doing it grudgingly, or trying to pull away to follow my own direction.
Lord Take
My Hand
By C.S.
Post
Lord,
take my hand
And
guide me through today
O’er
rugged land
And
down the narrow way
With
You I’ll stand
And try
to trust and stay
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