When I was a little girl, I was absolutely fearless, that is, as long as I was holding my Daddy’s hand, because I knew that my Daddy was a superhero – and he could protect me from anything – monsters – bad guys – natural disasters. I would ride any ride at the amusement park with him – try anything new – it didn’t matter, Daddy was there. Alas, I grew up, and I finally understood that though he might be a superhero to me, to the rest of the world he was fairly ordinary, and bullets wouldn’t bounce off him, and he couldn’t save me if the rollercoaster jumped track. And I learned the meaning of fear.
But even though I knew these things, there was something very comforting about holding Daddy’s hand, and feeling his strength and protection and love. And while he might not be able to save me from everything, he would protect me with his very life, if need be. And he is still my superhero.
I remember once when I was in high school, there was a mix-up with my Mom about a ride home from school. I frequently walked to her workplace after school, and rode home with her. She had gone home early for some reason – and she wasn’t there when I arrived. I had to walk for quite a ways to find a phone to call home (back in the days BEFORE cell phones). As soon as she got home, she realized what had happened – and sent Dad back to get me. He came looking for me, and teenager or not, I held his hand all the way back to the car. I was scared before he got there, but I was fine holding his hand.
That picture of being safe holding Dad’s hand is the picture I hold from my favorite scripture:
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10, NIV)
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