He Holds On Still

When I was in high school I worked at a dry cleaners. I was one of the few kids with a class schedule loaded with AP courses while also working more than 20 hours a week. It wasn’t as hard as it sounds though, because I worked at a slow pick-up/drop-off location by myself. I had hours a day in a quiet room alone to work on my homework. In fact I had more than enough time for my homework. I thank God that smart phones weren’t a thing yet, because I filled the time with reading, listening to indie CDs, and just sitting and thinking. All those AP classes really got me thinking. I thought of history and literature and physics and problem solving and how it all was the limited ways we perceive what’s going on in this mysterious universe we find ourselves in. My teachers encouraged me to think in new ways and ask a lot of questions. As my 17 year old mind filled with so many questions and had no Google access, I turned to creator and keeper of all the answers – God. I prayed all my ideas and questions and doubts. I listened intently. It was fruitful; God answered in many different beautiful ways – and oftentimes with more questions. I felt in awe of God, His creation, and all the mystery. I felt His unconditional love for me and my friends. I loved the searching, and I promised to never stop. I remember one prayer so vividly – I prayed that no matter where my doubts and questions took me, no matter what ideas I contemplated, that He would hold my faith and lead me closer to truth. I was His, and I believed that as I held on to everything loosely, He would hold onto me firmly. 

And He did. He held on as I graduated high school and went on to college. He held on as I got too busy to sit and think. He held on while I stopped journalling and stopped questioning. He held on while I got more interested in achieving than searching. He held on while I entered the workforce. He held on while I was too tired to stand in awe. He held on while I thought of my faith as a checklist and my prayers became a wishlist. He held on while I ignored every prompting of something more. He held on while my view of Him went from busting big past the drawn-in lines of childhood to melting down between the constructs of individualism and performance of early adulthood. He held on as our time together shrunk in whatever was left between endless work meetings and binge watching TV. 

That’s about where we were when I got pregnant with Ginny. Although planned, the pregnancy itself shook me to my core, and anxiety forced me to quit my job and rearrange my entire life. So when Ginny died in my womb at 35 weeks, I truly wondered whether my faith would be strong enough to endure. I knew this was the kind of thing that could break people and could make them turn from everything they once believed. But God very quickly reminded me of my prayer from over a decade earlier. He would hold my faith. While I was only hanging on loosely, he would hold onto me firmly. As I called out to Him, he immediately covered me with comfort and strength and so so so much love. It was painful and terrible and incredibly difficult, but I was not alone. He walked with me through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23). He is the perfecter of faith (Hebrews 12:2). 

In the months following Ginny’s death, I found myself with a lot of empty time. I didn’t have a job so I spent hours a day reading, listening to indie albums, and just sitting and thinking…again. All my grief really got me thinking and questioning and doubting. And even though I did do my fair share of Googling this time, I once again asked the creator and keeper of all answers – God. And again it was fruitful. I got many answers and many more questions. The loss made me lose so many faith assumptions I carried. My beliefs shifted, but yet I still stood in awe and I felt his unconditional love. 

With two living children, I do not have the same empty time as I did almost 7 years ago. But God has opened my eyes to His presence in the playtimes and sleepless nights of middle age motherhood. Turns out, it’s not as hard to find Jesus in loving servitude as it is in selfish ambition (not too surprising I guess). My beliefs are still shifting. The awe-striking questions and doubts and answers keep on coming, but instead of praying in a quiet room by myself, I’m praying while gathering snacks in a LOUD kitchen or if I’m lucky, to the buzz of the monitor during nap time. And while I don’t have control and am forced to hold to all I have and know loosely, He holds on still.