Hold My Hand

“Hold my hand.”

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said that as a parent. It’s usually in a situation where I need my kids close to me. I love them, and I need them to trust me with their safety.

That’s a lot harder to do when their hands are full of things they want to carry with them. They don’t want to let go of their precious things, even if it means they can’t hold my hand. They try to figure out a way to do both – hold on to their treasures and hold on to me.

—

She stands, waiting. She’s been waiting more and more, as of late. She self-consciously tugs at her clothes, pulling them a little closer to her form, and clutches the coins in her hand a little tighter.

It’s crowded today, she thinks, looking discreetly at the people gathered around her. They must be here to listen to the Rabbi. She inches forward, her head bowed a little, as she listens to the priest announce each offering, its amount and giver.

The waiting

Still, she waits for her turn. Again, she clutches her coins.

In years past, she and her husband had been much closer to the front of the line than she is now, able to give a generous offering. Today, she still waits, for she is last to give, with the least amount to offer.

She’s been alone for a while now, widowed with no son to take care of her. And yet, she hasn’t been as lonely as her story sounds. She’s had her God. The Father to the fatherless. The Husband to the widow. He has been there for her when those closest to her were gone. He has provided for her where others have neglected.

She steps closer, clutching her coins.

The struggle

She has struggled with this decision. Could she do it? Should she give today? It was all she had, her next meal, her shelter. Although it wasn’t much, it was everything. But the peace in her heart won out. Her God, who has always been faithful to her, would be faithful still, even if she did not know what that would look like.

Her turn finally comes, and she steps forward and releases the coins into one of the trumpet-shaped collection vessels, her face awash with peace and trust. She hears her name called, and her offering announced.

Her two small copper coins.

The Rabbi

The Rabbi has been sitting across the room, having given a scathing reproach to the teachers of the law for their hypocrisy, notably in how they treated widows like her. He has been watching the line of people giving their offerings. He has been watching her.

As the sound of the two coins fades, Jesus remarks to his disciples,

I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth, but she, out of her poverty, put in everything – all she had to live on. (Mark 12:43-44 NIV)

She gave everything. EVERYTHING. She surrendered EVERYTHING because she knew God was trustworthy. He was faithful.

—

The God who was worthy of her trust is worthy of yours. He is still faithful. He loves you.

The widow who gave everything challenges me. Her story makes me ask uncomfortable questions of myself.

What does it look like to be FULLY dependent on God?

Do I trust God enough with my future to give him everything I have today?

Can I place my future, my EVERYTHING in the hands of the Almighty God?

completely dependent

In our Christian circles, we talk a lot about giving it all to Jesus. We talk about living a life of surrender, of completely trusting God. But are we really willing to give EVERYTHING? Or are there some things we hold back, some things we clutch tightly in our hands, knowing that to surrender those things would mean surrendering EVERYTHING, to be completely dependent on an unseen God.

What am I clutching tightly that I am afraid to surrender?

If I’m honest, there are more things clutched in my hands that I’d like to admit. Maybe, if you’re honest, there are things you clutch too. And not just your money.

Your spouse, your children.

Your job, your status.

Your house, your possessions.

Your health, your independence.

Your dreams, your future.

If I’m holding His hand, it’s a lot harder to hold onto those other things.