There are no words big enough to say how thankful I am at this time for the small ways in which I am being held, by my family at home, my new PRBI family and all the amazing connections I've made in my few weeks here. I am so grateful for each and every one of you, and the ways you hold me.
Because sometimes you can feel like an island
The past few days have been a struggle. Constantly I am being convicted, pushed to grow, forced to move outside of my comfort zone. All of it can feel like trying to navigate my way through a snow storm. I can barely see two feet in front of me, and everything is vague and obscure as I stumble through the nothingness, hopefully towards something.
And then something happens. There is a hand, reaching into your storm. There are strong fingers that wrap around yours when everything feels like too much. They pull you to your feet, and nod, because they’ve been there too. And something about that moment, the act of being held, however briefly, matters. It is enough to shed some light on what is ahead. It’s not just me, standing alone in the storm, but now there is a sense of togetherness.
And that connection, it’s an anchor. It steadies me, reminds me that I can stand on my own two feet, that sometimes the only way beyond is through. It points me back to the One who is always standing there, reaching out His hand, waiting to pull me to my feet.
Sometimes when you are fighting your way through the hard stuff in life, when you can’t even see the next step, it’s a beautiful thing to just be held.