Held Fast

I’m going through family photos, looking for one to fill a new frame for my desk. There are a lot of memories here: Christmases. Birthdays. Everyday life. I pull a stack of pictures out of the box. A stray photo slips out of my hand and drifts to the hardwood floor. It’s upside down, so all I can see is the word “Kodak” printed in light grey. But when I flip it over, I recognize the image immediately. 

My youngest brother, Isaiah, and I are together on a ski lift. I’m grinning, my arm around Isaiah. But Isaiah’s face is pure alarm. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is a perfect O. It was his first ride on a ski lift, and I remember how scared he was. His fingers had gripped my arm. He had huddled close to me as the lift rose and the empty space underneath us grew from inches to yards. I wrapped my arms around him and told him that he was safe.

Looking at this picture, I’m struck by how much I can identify with the way Isaiah felt. There are so many things in my life that I can’t control. And it scares me. There are days where I feel like my feet will never be on solid ground again.

But this photo also reminds me that even when I feel helpless, God is holding me. And I can lean into Him. Grip Him tightly. Ask Him for reassurance.

And He will never let me go.

I set the photo aside and place the rest back in the box.  I found what I’m looking for. This picture will be a reminder on the days I feel helpless: I am secure in the arms of my Heavenly Father.