Grasping at hope

I love looking at the tiny, trusting hands of my new grandson, James, now four months old.  These tiny, intricate hands curl around an adult finger with such faith and trust. Right now, his favorite game is “push-ups,” going from sitting in my lap to standing in it.  I know better than to trust just his grip to pull him up, so I hold his hand as he holds mine.

This tender imagery came to mind as I prepared last week’s blog review of Carol Kent’s new devotional book, He Holds My Hand.  In autographing it, she referenced Psalm 63:8, “I stay close to you; your right hand upholds me.”

The psalm’s inscription says David wrote it while in the desert of Judah, probably referring to the years he fled the murderous intentions of King Saul. He’s hungry, hunted, and hopeful.  He thinks of God day and night:

On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. (v. 6)

In recent months I’ve experienced those “night-watch” God times.  I value a good night of sleep, but frequently I wake up around 2 or 3 a.m. with a compulsion to pray for someone who has verbally bullied me. My greatest desire is to see this person become whole in Christ. In praying, I sometimes feel like a little child (or even a baby) putting my weak but trusting hand in God’s.  At such times, other “hand” scriptures bring me comfort, like this one in Isaiah 41:13:

For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, "Do not fear; I will help you.”

Or this, in Psalm 37:23:

The LORD delights in the ways of the man whose steps he has made firm; through he stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand.

At times in those middle-of-the-night prayers, my posture is uplifted hands, my way of releasing to God my frustration and deep concern for this person. That’s the way it should be. When I reach up, God is reaching down to me.  And that brings comfort and hope.