I am Held

Nothing has taught me more about being a child of God than having a child of my own— it’s a truly marvelous yet ironic thing. I never expected that some of the most profound lessons I would learn about God, would come from the days of diaper-bottle-burp-nap on repeat and sleepless nights caring for a precious, tiny little human who can barely hold up her own head.

The very first time my husband and I took our daughter to her grandparents’ house for an overnight stay was one such lesson. Everything started out promising enough; we tried to keep the morning low-key and let her explore the house, ate lunch, and then it was time for a nap. Of course, that was when everything started going downhill.

Following standard protocol, we made the room as dark as physically possible and turned on the white noise machine. I sat down with her in a big brown rocking chair and using the most soothing voice I could muster, attempted to convince her that it was time to nap. Her big eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, from the textured ceiling over to the vintage furniture then to the crib that was not her own— and that’s when the meltdown began. 

Is there anything more heartbreaking than the inconsolable cries of a baby? My husband and I took turns rocking, shushing, swaying, bouncing, singing a lullaby— everything we could think of to calm her. As I held my wailing daughter in my arms, I wonder, Am I just making it worse? I don’t seem to be making things any better. 

She pauses momentarily and squirms in my arms. I hold my breath. She takes one look at me and goes back to wailing. 

Big tears spring from her eyes and her whole body is sweaty from the struggle. I can do nothing but hold her tightly. As she squirms and kicks, it feels as if she is using every ounce of strength trying to escape my grasp and I am tempted to just set her down and leave the room. I admit that under different circumstances I might have, but today was different. I know she was thinking, I want to go home mommy.

But we wouldn’t, not yet. Learning that life would sometimes take her outside of her comfort zone was something she needed to work out on her own and in that very moment, there was nothing I could do to make things better. But I am with her and I am holding her. I am here with you baby, I can’t fix all of your problems but I will be here with you through it all.

And in that same moment I heard God whisper in my heart, You are held. 

God never promised me a life free of pain and hardship, but He does promise that He will always be holding me in His loving hands and He will never let go. Often, I doubt, I question, I kick and squirm, I just want to run away from it all, like Jonah; but nevertheless God holds onto me.

When I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes and had to prick my finger after every meal and self-administer insulin shots four times a day, He held me. 

When my mind went blank and my knees felt weak upon hearing that doctors had discovered a tumor in my father’s brain, He held me. 

When my church was falling apart in the aftermath of a whole lot of brokeness and pain, He held me.

And of course in those exhausting early days of being a first-time-mom, He held me even more tightly that I could ever hold onto my daughter, because His love is beyond measure. 

Could God have changed all of these circumstances in an instant? Oh yes, after all the greatest difference between me holding my daughter and God holding me is that I am weak, limited, and imperfect while He is all-powerful and limitless. God has shown amazing grace and some of these circumstances have changed while others I am still waiting for an answer. He is God and I am not. That’s a lesson I am still learning.

As for now, just knowing that I am held by our loving Heavenly Father gives me strength for another day. As my husband said after our first month as parents, I’ve never seen so many sunrises before. They are indeed beautiful. 

Sandy H.

Writer, Storyteller, Content contributor of NON

Los Angeles, CA.