HIS hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands.

the whole world.  the world that doesn’t make sense.  the one that doesn’t function the way we think it should.  a world that’s perverse and fallen and broken.  my world — the one that’s not been spinning correctly.  your world and whatever you have that feels off, imbalanced, not quite right.  yup, that one.

He’s got the wind and the rain in His hands.

we were told on Sunday that storms can be expected, floods promised to come, and rain sure to fall.  i knew that, but sometimes it’s hard to admit when you’re in the midst of a storm.  it never seems very faith-filled to look around and say, “yup, the rain sure be pourin’ somethin’ mighty out there.”

but what i’m realizing is that faith is when you can look at the rain, the floods, and the windy storms that come into our lives and somehow see more than just the torrential downpour.  it’s when you’re able to lift your eyes off the doom and gloom of the moment your experiencing and see something Greater.  it’s when you see a Son behind the clouds that have dulled your everything.  that’s faith.

it’s been pouring in my life.  it’s been windy and flooding and raining in the lives of those in my family.  the end of summer marked a start of heaviness, of whiplash after whiplash, and more and more rain, leaving us wondering if there’s any sign of it ending soon.  our heads are dizzy, our hearts fragile, but it’s taught us the lesson from Job — He gives and takes away, but in it all, blessed be His name.

He’s got the tiny little baby in His hands.

they had her for three months.  three whole months to call her their own.  they loved on her, changed their daily schedule for her, decorated a room for her, brought her to doctors appointments, purchased outfits and toys for her, and suddenly, they had to let go.  they were saying goodbye.  her father of three months kissed her neck and she, with her goofy wonderful scrunched up smile, giggled over and over.  her mother of three months held her tightly while feeding her the last time.  “i love you, baby,” they whispered over and over.  it broke their hearts.  it broke our hearts.

and it was time.  time to pile into vehicles, drive over to an office, and hand her back to the biological mother.  she wanted her baby back and the court ruled that she would get her.  we filed past that beautiful little girl one more time saying our goodbyes and i found it ironic how similar it felt to a wake of a deceased love one.  it felt like she was dead.

but she’s not.  i’m more and more aware of the blessing of her life as this nightmare continues.  she should be dead.  she should have died months ago due to the atrocities of abortion.  but she didn’t.  she’s living because one person was faithful to share God’s truth.  this child was given to be part of our family these three months because others continued to be faithful to share God’s truth.  and i can only pray that someday, this very child who has seen the protection of God from the very beginning, will one day stand and also declare God’s truth.

and although right now it feels like our world is out of control, that the storms are trying their best to knock us down, that we just lost a child/niece/grandchild/happiest baby in the world, we can rest in His Hands.

because really, He’s got it.  the mad world.  the rains that seem unfair.  and the baby girl.  He’s got it all.

8 thoughts on “HIS hands

  1. The tears are coming so hard that it’s hard to type. Your families faith is beautiful, oh how I wish it didn’t hurt you all so much. I wish I knew something better to say but it seems the words won’t come. Our family loves you all so much.

  2. wow. thank you for posting this update. i wish it didn’t hurt so much. i want to read it again and hope the outcome is different… your mum said it well… and so did you. but oh, the tears, the pain, the hurt…

  3. I am continuing to pray for all of you. I pray that you will continue to cling to the truth. I pray that comfort will come.

  4. So beautifully written, Louissa….
    This almost indescribable pain is ever-so-raw and real and can ONLY be comforted by those hands you wrote of….I pray that you all can fall back into His arms each time the hurt returns.
    I am praying and grieving with you all

    Michele L.

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