In God’s Hands
That comforting feeling comes at a high price
He’s got the whole world, in his hands,
He’s got the whole wide world, in his hands,
He’s got the whole world, in his hands,
He’s got the whole world in his hands.
Did you sing that song in your church? I did. I sang it — joyfully — and I believed with all my heart that I was in God’s hands.
He cared for me — for little old me! He had made me, and loved me as though I was his child. It was beautiful, simple, and sweet.
In his time
I could ask for the things I needed, and he would give them to me. Of course, most of the time when I prayed, nothing would happen. But every once in a while, he would answer one of my prayers. And that one time that he answered a prayer proved to me that the countless unanswered prayers in the past were simply him telling me to wait.
We had a saying that we liked to put on bookmarks, t-shirts, and other paraphernalia. We’d even repeat it to each other like it was some sort of zen-filled mantra — “In his time.” It meant that God had a plan for us, and that plan would be revealed in time. All I needed to do to receive my heart’s desire was to ask God to give it to me. But it would happen in his time, not in…
