The child dangled from a large tree limb, legs flailing, tongue wailing. She was terrified of dangling so far above the ground, yet terrified even more of letting go to slip into her father’s arms flung outstretched beneath her. Her saga on the limb, though dangerous, was a sure thing, even if she didn’t like it — though she dangled, her grasp was strong and the limb sturdy.
But she was stuck and afraid.
Afraid to let go.
The child was me.
Daddy called to me from below, “Let go and trust me. I won’t let you fall.” But I didn’t believe him. I mean, I believed him, but my fear of falling was much greater.
So I dangled and merely wished the stuckness away.
Daddy called to me again. I looked down at his strong hands and then looked up at the limb. My palms were growing sweaty and my muscles growing weak. I didn’t know how much longer I could stay in this place of dangling between what I knew and letting go to trust my daddy would catch me.
Again I heard, “Trust me. Let go.”
And this time I did.
Daddy caught me and pulled me close to his chest. I could hear his heartbeat and feel his joy as he twirled in circles with me in his arms.
Once again I am that child learning to let go and trust my Father — trust Him to catch me, to keep me from falling. Trusting Him to fill my hands with the grasp of His own once I let go of the familiar, the fear and doubts of the unknown. Trusting Him to guide my steps and guard my heart once I let go of the dangling place of stuckness.
This morning I read:
Wait upon Me. Let your life be as a deep, quiet pool. Let your heart rest in My hand as a bird in a nest. Let your eyes be still. Let your hands be free. For then I shall fill all your vision, and then I shall take your hands into Mine and My power shall flow forth into you. ~ Come Away My Beloved, by Frances J. Roberts
My spirit stirred within me as I read those powerful words. I cried out to the Lord, Let my hands be free that I might take Your hands in mine and know Your power. I am nothing without You, Lord. I believe. Help thou my unbelief. I trust You. Help me in my dangling moments of distrust — of those fears that embody the unknown. For this I DO know — You are faithful and true. You are merciful and kind. You are my constant in this ever-changing life and You have never failed me. I thank You for that truth.
At that moment, in my mind’s eye and the beating place of my heart, I let go of those things that keep me bound and began a gentle descent into my Father’s waiting arms.
My Father’s arms. A sure place.