As the congregation spilled out into the foyer, brothers and sisters in Christ were visiting as they slowly headed toward the exits. There was no sense of urgency, but rather the sound of hope wafted through the air as adults and children alike laughed and visited with the early Sunday morning crowd.
This particular Sunday was no different than the hundreds that had taken place before and many more that were to come. Each one played out on a weekly basis and sharing a similar feeling of family unity. The busyness of the day wasn’t lost in a frenzied stampede to the doors. People, young and old, lingered as they enjoyed the company of fellow Christians. And to a small, 4 year old boy, this weekly forest of legs was nothing for me to shy away from. We were a family, a comfortable environment centered around our Heavenly Father. My parents had taught me this concrete principle from the day I could understand their words of instruction. Following our Father’s example, we will always be a family of love.
On this particular Sunday morning as I dodged ‘tree trunks’ of corduroy and zipping passed the ladies swaying skirts, I was looking for a familiar hand. One that perfectly held my small, child-like grip; and my granddad’s hand was unmistakable. Years of hard labor had left his hands rugged and strong, yet also offered to me a stabilizing and comforting grasp.
In short order I saw his large, unmistakable hand at his side, and without hesitation I reached up and took a firm grip. We walked for a while, taking in the excitement of the morning. There was no hurry. Slowly we made our way across the carpeted hallway. As we walked I waited. Surely my granddad would pick me up to save my steps. Surely he would lift me up and provide that assurance a child needs. But we walked on. As we walked I lifted my gaze and peered into the face of a man who wasn’t my granddad. All along I thought I knew who was holding my hand. From the moment we grasped hands, I was sure I was holding the steadfast, safe hand of my granddad. Though I was safe in the hands of this older Christian I wasn’t aware of whose hand I held.
My kids are growing up faster than I would have ever imagined. Our oldest son, Logan, is prepared to start his 2nd year at Freed Hardeman University. Before this month is over our second child, Emili ,will be starting her first year there. Dillon, our youngest, will be an only child in the Bruce household this fall. Last year as we prepared to leave Logan in Tennessee, I struggled with that transition. My oldest was growing up and moving on. Life was changing. Now my little girl is doing the same. She has grown up from that sweet, curly haired angel to a strong, mature young Christian lady. Life keeps moving on…
Last year as our oldest moved out on his own, I came to focus on the message of the song by Warren Roberts, “God Bless You, Go with God”. And Emili, that prayer is still my prayer for you as well. But in addition, I want you encourage you to think about the words written by Ira Stanpill in the late 1950’s. She penned the following:
1…I don’t know about tomorrow; I just live from day to day.
I don’t borrow from its sunshine for its skies may turn to gray.
I don’t worry o’er the future, for I know what Jesus said.
And today I’ll walk beside Him, for He knows what lies ahead.
Chorus: Many things about tomorrow I don’t seem to understand
But I know who holds tomorrow and I know who holds my hand.
2…Every step is getting brighter as the golden stairs I climb;
Every burden’s getting lighter, every cloud is silver-lined.
There the sun is always shining, there no tear will dim the eye;
At the ending of the rainbow where the mountains touch the sky.
Chorus:
3…I don’t know about tomorrow; it may bring me poverty.
But the one who feeds the sparrow, is the one who stands by me.
And the path that is my portion may be through the flame or flood;
But His presence goes before me and I’m covered with His blood.
Chorus:
Emili, please remember that as you walk through this life you will have lots of questions. Questions like; ‘Why are they treating me like this? How can he do that to me? Why would she say something like that?’ There are times when people will disappoint you. At the same time, there will be days when you feel like you’re on ‘Cloud 9.’ Nothing could go wrong and everything is going right. Either way, during either day, consider who’s hand you are holding. Sometimes the hand you hold will appear to be the right one. It will look good, feel right and treat you just like you expect it to. But there is one hand (besides mine) that you need to reach out to take hold of and never let go. His hand will protect you and shield you in these tender moments when you’re learning to make it on your own. You know who I’m talking about, and even though you don’t know what your tomorrow holds, rest assured in knowing that He holds your tomorrow. As you hold your Savior’s hand remember this. Your mother and I are not far away, because…we’re holding His hand too.