Two of my grandchildren were staying with me last week. My grandson, Silas, wanted to go out to the backyard, and of course, asked me to go out there with him. "Cisa, I have a ladybug!" He sat down beside me and gently allowed the little ladybug to walk up and down his fingers. "She likes me!" he said. It would seem so since she didn't fly away, but continued her journey across his hand.
Maybe the hand of God is just like that, allowing us to walk up and down his fingers, watching us, smiling as we marvel in his majesty and investigate his world. It is an emotional and spiritually safe and secure place as he gently cups us in his hands and protects us from harm. Admittedly, there are times when I fly away, but that freedom is not as satisfying or creative as the times when I allow myself to settle comfortably in the hands of God.