Sunday, September 25, 2016

take a hand...

He was running rampant on the gleaming wooden floor, and it wasn't his first offense for the day. But after walking the halls and attempting to keep the peace on the ramp, good morning wishes, hugs and handing out sweaters; I have learned that tough love doesn't always scream a solution. 

So I steadied my gaze and caught him before he burst out in another run, and I gently asked him to choose to take my hand. I held it out, halfway hoping/halfway pleading for a semblance of calm in a raging sea of chaos. Much to my surprise his dark eyes looked up at mine, questioning the choice, and he placed his hand in mine. 

The screaming, running, and kicking suddenly stopped. 

He held my hand during the wait, as we walked towards the bus. 

And I'm often prone to wonder and wander. I'm the kind that over-thinks things to absolute pieces, that creates something out of nothing. 

And so as I was driving away, I was struck with a few thoughts. 

I'm not any different than that darling boy, who often is overlooked or reckoned too much. 

Circumstances cause my heart to run amuck, and I kick and scream proclaiming that enough is enough. Inside screams are no different than outside screams; thoughts are heartbreakers, too. 

But if I just made the choice to look up. I know I would find his steady gaze, his eyes glimpses of grace, looking upon me. 

Tough love would be absent from his agenda and his hands would be held out in the open and up for my taking. But he wouldn't grab for my hand; He would wait for me to choose. 

So today, I wrestle with the choice and I choose to take his hand. My kicking and screaming ceases. Even the over-thinking stops as quickly as it started, and I take his hand. 

And I am calm.
I am safe. 

And before I close my eyes and bid another day farewell, I ask Jesus to give me eyes of grace, hands ready to hold, and a heart FULL, to love. 

As He is my safe place, I will set out to be theirs. 

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