A Hand to Hold
“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.”Psalm 40:2
The kids wanted to go fossil hunting in the creek near our house over the weekend, one of their favorite things to do. Ever since we took them shark tooth hunting in Florida a few years ago, they’ve been hooked on digging old things out of the ground. So I grabbed their boots, a bucket, some sun protection, and we headed out.
What I’ve come to love about that creek is that it always carries just a smidge of danger. Not the kind that makes me say “never again,” but the kind that makes for good stories they can’t wait to tell mom.
We found it almost immediately.
Crossing the field, we had to navigate spider webs, fire ant mounds, and scattered honey locust branches covered in long thorns. Hudson and Hazel both had a few close calls with thorns catching on their boots, threatening to go further.
“They’re everywhere,” I called out. “Stay right behind me.” It’s amazing how quickly obedience shows up when the risks start to look real.
At the creek, I gave them another warning: watch for soft mud along the banks. It can look solid until suddenly it isn’t.
It didn’t take long.
Hazel stepped just a little too far and started to sink. “Appa! I need your help!” she called. I pulled her back to solid ground. A few minutes later, Hudson leaned in to grab a fossil and found himself sinking too. He was laughing, but stuck. I pulled him out as well.
“You guys need to stick together,” I said. “Use the buddy system.”
Hudson nodded and explained it to Hazel: stay close, watch out for each other, help if one of you gets stuck.
And that’s when I saw a shift.
As we walked along the creek, Hazel hesitated at a small ledge. Before I could say anything, Hudson reached out his hand, guiding her across. A few minutes later, near another patch of mud, his hand was there again.
For a moment, the usual sibling bickering was gone. When the ground beneath them couldn’t be trusted, they learned to trust each other.
Holy Week is a story that unfolds on similar ground.
What begins with celebration quickly gives way to uncertainty. At the Last Supper, there is confusion and warning. In the Garden of Gethsemane, there is fear and isolation. And by the Crucifixion of Jesus, everything that once felt steady has given way.
The disciples don’t hold onto one another very well in moments like that. They scatter and retreat. Even Peter the Apostle, so confident just hours before, falters when the pressure rises. Despite Jesus’ warnings, the disciples also find themselves constantly falling asleep in the garden.
It turns out that when the ground gives way, love is harder than we think.
But Holy Week isn’t just a story about how we fail to reach for one another. It’s also the story of the One who does not let go.
While others step back, Jesus steps forward toward fear and uncertainty. He remains steady when everything else gives way.
And that’s part of the invitation of Holy Week.
When the ground gives way, we learn to trust the One who does not. And in being steadied by Him, we find ourselves able to reach out to others.
Reflection:
Where in your life right now does the ground feel uncertain and how might Jesus be inviting you to trust Him there?
Prayer:
Gracious God, when the ground beneath us feels uncertain, help us to trust that You are steady. Thank You for holding us even when our faith feels weak and our footing unsure. Teach us to rely on You more deeply, not just in safety, but in moments of fear and need. And as You hold us, make us ready to reach out with Your love to those around us. Amen.
With faith, hope, and love,
Eric Smith