Don’t worry, I’ve got you.

On a spring hike, I decided to walk a short portion of the trail to find a quiet space.

The snowy steps were too slick for my tennis shoes, but I hiked on. 

The sound of the roaring waterfall, the gentle breeze inspired the pines to sing, and a bluebird flew past as I exhaled.

A melting snowman perched on a post reminded me warmer days are ahead.

I’m in the final stretch of my lenten journey. From the cold, bleak, winter of the cross, to the radiant resurrection of Easter Sunday, hope is on the horizon.

If I had a say, I’d skip Maundy Thursday and jump to Sunday’s celebration.  

I struggle with suffering.

How was I doing with this 40 day passage of letting go?

I thought I was doing well enough…until God showed me otherwise on the climb down.

I was just about to the bottom of the trail where the waterfall plunges under a snowbank. 

A family was heading up the trail, holding MY handrail—the one I needed for my final descent to the bridge where secure footing awaited.

They came toward me and expected me to let go and walk around. Then the man put his hand out to help me walk past them.

I didn’t let go. My security remained in me and me alone.

The God-given opportunity to let go and trust awaited with outstretched hand. All I had to do was receive it.

I grabbed his hand and started to slip.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he said in a sturdy voice.

With trepidation, I made it around the family and immediately took hold of the rail once again.

***

There’s sixteen days remaining until Easter. Not enough time to master the art of letting go. 

God’s strong arm is far-reaching and I’m sure there will be a lifetime of lessons in this area for me. 

Do I truly trust His security over my own?

Not completely…but working on it.

I looked up to where I’d just come from. His voice echoed through the clouds, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”