Holding Hands

“And be sure of this, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20 NLT)

We are in a strange season of unparalleled isolation, aren’t we? As the pandemic rages on, the inhabitants of the world continue to stand six feet apart. We are connected through technology or old-school paper to pen, but we still feel far off from each other.

My heart is especially heavy for those who have loved ones in the hospital: fighting the virus or any other variety of physical ailments. Family can’t come near: to pray, to soothe, to serve or speak comfort. I’ve had more than one text thread conversation with someone sitting apart from their person: separated by essential protocol, safety measures implemented in an attempt to stave off the virus that threatens our way of life.

I think of scripture and the oft-quoted Christmas promise: Immanuel, God with us. We tend to tout this assurance in December around a manger, but truly, it is a promise repeated through scripture. I uncovered it again in Exodus, just last week.

“God answered, “I will be with you.”” (Exodus 3:12 NLT)

God reinforces this truth over and over from Genesis to Revelation. He assures us, the blessing of being His people is His with-ness. In everything. All of it. Forever.

Which brings me back to families separated by coronavirus circumstances. In his book, Through the Eyes of A Lion, Levi Lusko talks about his daughter, Lenya, being unseen, just around a corner, in heaven, holding Jesus’ hand; safe is His care. Levi explained to his other daughters, how if we also hold Jesus’ hand, we are remain connected to our loved ones through Christ. We can’t see around the corner, but we can grasp the hand of the One who holds them.

I think it’s the same with a loved one who is laying in the hospital in this season. Our family member can reach out in prayer to Jesus. Omnipresent Immanuel is there, with them in that sick room: praying, soothing, serving and speaking to their soul. At the same time, from the safe distance of our home, we can also reach out and take hold of our Savior’s hand. He engages with us just as actively as He engages with our loved one. We are connected through Christ though we are separated by coronavirus.

In the days before His death, Jesus says as strange thing. He tell His disciples in John 16:7 that it is better than He goes away so the Advocate – the Holy Spirit – can come. I wonder if, though this separation feels awful, it isn’t actually for our benefit because we are all trusting God in big, new ways? Our loved one in the hospital is leaning into the Lord’s presence like never before. I trust that they’ll experience the reality of our Savior at a level they have not previously thought possible. And I suspect the same is true for us at home as well. It is when our routines are interrupted, our comfort disrupted, and our own means run dry that we discover Jesus is, in fact, enough. We find all we truly need in simply holding on to Him.

“Lord, You know the hopes of the helpless. Surely You will hear their cries and comfort them.” (Psalm 10:17 NIV)

Lord Jesus, we reach out for Your hand today, desperate for a life preserver in this uncharted water. We trust that You are holding our loved ones, too, whether they are in the hospital or in their homes. We remain socially distant but spiritually connected through You: our constant Source and Friend. We have struggled in these days of isolation and we look for You to steady us. Thank You for being Immanuel in every season, God with us. Amen.