I had to let go.
After spending the prior year protecting that little one – only thirteen months old – from bumps and bruises, releasing her into surgery was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
But time was short. The kidney tumor was growing rapidly. In two weeks, it was already softball size. It had to be removed.
My heart ached in that waiting room. My stomach ached. When her name was called, I had to take that journey with her to prepare for surgery.
Back in the holding room, she was given a medication to make her sleepy. And I rocked her trusting baby self, stroking her precious baby hair.
In time, a young woman, spotted through the door window, began walking down the long corridor toward us. Inhale. Exhale. She opened the door, ready to take our baby girl. I placed her into a stranger’s arms.
Would they hold her secure? Would they treat her with tender care?
Praying over the doctor’s hands, I begged God to guide them.
I took that trek, empty handed, back into the waiting room with my family.
I had no choice.
She was a fragile life … held in God’s hands.
We are a fragile life … held in God’s hands.
Often, we must wrestle to realize – God is the only One worthy of holding too tightly. He’s the only One who will never leave. He’s the only One who can never be taken away. He’s the only One we just can’t shake.
And … He’s the only One who faithfully holds us.
The only One.
He will hold secure. He will treat with care.
We can trust our fragile life in God’s agile hands.
But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” – Genesis 32:26