Monday, December 20, 2010

sweet girl, I can't hold your hand...

Where have I been, sweet blog friends?

I wish I could tell you I was on some secret mission in Spain. A mission trip to Africa. Maybe a study-abroad session in Greece?

No. None of those.

I had finals. Papers due. Graduation. Advising sessions and apartment hunting since I got into Texas A&M for grad school. Christmas festivities. Moving out. Moving home.

Not as exciting, but nevertheless, they've kept me from you.

I graduated on Saturday! Complete with family lunch and a party...but by the time I went to bed that night, I had a fever and an awful cough. Two days of high fevers, lots of kleenex, an exorbitant amount of sleep, two trips to the doctor's office, and one ridiculously long wait at the pharmacy find me here, curled up on the couch watching You've Got Mail and wondering about the probability of some wonderful man "coincidentally" happening upon my email address. A girl can dream right?...but I digress ;)

On our way out of the pharmacy, there was a younger woman in front of us with her two little boys. Her hands were full and when we got out the door I heard her say, "Get on my hip, guys!" The boys quickly found their spots on either side of her and stood so close, touching their shoulders to her hips as they walked. I was reminded of a day a couple years ago when I was running an errand at the mall and had a sweet little person with me. As we left one store to navigate the crowd to another, my hands were already full so I leaned over, looked straight in those eyes and said "I can't hold your hand right now. I need to you hold on to my sweater, ok?" A smile and nod later, we were on our way. Sweet little fingers gripped the edge of my sweater as we passed by people hurrying to do their shopping, reassuring me that I hadn't lost the most important package I had with me.

Watching that woman today, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe that's how it was for the woman in Luke 8.

(The Message)
On his return, Jesus was welcomed by a crowd. They were all there expecting him. A man came up, Jairus by name. He was president of the meeting place. He fell at Jesus' feet and begged him to come to his home because his twelve-year-old daughter, his only child, was dying. Jesus went with him, making his way through the pushing, jostling crowd.
In the crowd that day there was a woman who for twelve years had been afflicted with hemorrhages. She had spent every penny she had on doctors but not one had been able to help her. She slipped in from behind and touched the edge of Jesus' robe. At that very moment her hemorrhaging stopped. Jesus said, "Who touched me?"
When no one stepped forward, Peter said, "But Master, we've got crowds of people on our hands. Dozens have touched you."
Jesus insisted, "Someone touched me. I felt power discharging from me."
When the woman realized that she couldn't remain hidden, she knelt trembling before him. In front of all the people, she blurted out her story—why she touched him and how at that same moment she was healed.
Jesus said, "Daughter, you took a risk trusting me, and now you're healed and whole. Live well, live blessed!"
I wonder if somehow she heard Jesus say, "Sweet daughter, I can't hold your hand right now. I need you to hold on to my robe....just that little touch, you'll be with me. Grab whatever you can reach--no matter how small."

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by God. Sometimes I can't wrap my mind...let alone my little hands around all that He is; but then I remember--I don't have to.

All I need is to reach out and grab the edge of his :) and I'll know how close He is.


Uncanny Colleen said...

Welcome back to blogland! I have missed your insightful posts!

Congratulations again on A&M!

Anonymous said...

Just saw your comment over on my blog. So funny we have 3 of the same journals. :) Which ones were they?