“It’s in God’s hands” he said to me as he shrugged his shoulders in a carefree expression of faith.

It’s in God’s hands.

So easy to say, so easy to believe, so hard to live. I tell myself that I’m in God’s hands and I know that it’s true but I struggle with trying to take my life back into my own clumsy fingers. I grasp and I cling yet it all seems to slip away into the wind like sand in an hourglass, and I realize that is because I was never meant to hold it, it wasn’t made for my little hands to bear.

How incapable and clumsy I am and to think that I could handle this load on my own is just proof of the extent of my foolish pride. The span of my life is plain before Him and He guides me where I need to walk; I get to simply rest in the fact that it is in His hands. As I reflected on this reality after that conversation with a friend of mine, I realized how much greater his faith is than mine. The man who sat across from me had borne what, for some people is an unbearable load, without sharing it with anyone but Christ. No one knew what he was going through, what he was experiencing, yet the weight of it did not crush him, it did not even seem to hang over him for he knew that all was as it should be because all was in God’s hands. Thinking back to all of our interactions, he never once hinted, he never once seemed dismayed and it all stems from his reality within the context of God’s Word. His eternal destiny is certain, his mortal life but a trivial stage before his true life begins so what is the difference if eternity comes somewhat sooner than expected? He was so casual about it, so carefree.

The reality is that worrying and stressing over the what-ifs of life detract from the joy of trusting it all to God and as I reflected on this, I looked at my own burdens and realized how immature I was being by holding onto them. If they truly were in God’s hands, then why was I downcast over them? How was I benefited by dwelling on them? What place did I have to cling to my worries as though that would give me control over them? I cannot and do not want to control my future; I would much rather allow the Lord to work in my life all that He wills, not what I will, and when I realized this (and not for the first time, mind you) I once again released the care to Him.

The freedom and joy of casting all of my cares upon Him are indescribable, but it is an everyday surrender. With each breath that I take, it is a battle to relinquish control and allow Him to hold it, because the reality is, it’s in His hands whether I acknowledge it or not, but it is so much more enjoyable for me to live as though I actually believe that.

I looked into his eyes and saw there a concern and a tenderness that saddened my heart as he asked me what weighed upon it. Being too weak, too stubborn, or too afraid to share the burden with him I simply said, “It’s in His hands.” The response was hardly heartfelt and more of an excuse to be able to escape explaining to him all that raged within me, but the truth of it was still there. It is in His hands and today I rejoice in that, though then I scarcely lived it out.

I greatly admire the man across that table and I praise God for all that He has shown me through his friendship. There is so much I lack, so much I have yet to learn, and I am grateful for the people God has placed in my life whom He uses to teach me some of the lessons He has for me.

My friend, you reminded me, through your example, that my problem is hardly greater than the God I serve (in fact it isn’t even blip on the scale), so thank you. Thank you for your example of radical faith, thank you for the constant peace you exhibit, and thank you for your friendship. You don’t even realize how much you have poured into me, nor what God has taught me through you.  

So yes, it’s all in God’s hands and I wouldn’t want it anywhere else.