It's like when you're carrying something fragile and important. You hold it in your hands and wrap your fingers around it to insure its safety. You keep your eyes on it. But even then, it's too precious. And you draw it in to your chest like you're hugging it. Like you're using your whole body to hold and protect it.
We are kept in the palm of His hand, which I have been reminded is not too big that we get lost in it or too small that we fall off of it. But I guess I always pictured it like an open palm, you know? Held out in front of Him, maybe half an arm's length away. Like He holds us at a safe distance, while He watches and protects and keeps us.
But the other day, T and I were on the phone going back and forth about how blessed we are and how He has been putting pieces into place that are better than we could have imagined. And as she was describing how amazed she is by His love, she said, "He's not just holding me. He's holding me close." And it was like she flipped a switch. Of course He is. He doesn't just protect us and keep us and watch as we go about our lives. He cradles us and hugs us. He draws us close and loves on us. He gives to us and overwhelms us with His goodness. Of course.
We are too precious and fragile and important and loved for Him to keep us anywhere else.