In the night, under the tenderness of the dark, you can find me resting in the palm of God’s hand.  I found my way here years ago.  I came crawling out of my despair, longing to feel loved.  What I first thought was an empty promise, lead to my grace.

As a child I was taught there is no God, only me.  I would find my way with no shelter from the storm, just me, alone and not surprisingly, frightened out of my mind.  I became an over-stressed, anxiety prone adult completely unsatisfied from within.  However, on the outside, the persona the world saw, I was fine - I had a lot of friends, a boyfriend, a good education.  My whole life lay before me and I felt lost and alone.

One Sunday, I don’t even remember why, I found my way alone to a church.  It was a beautiful church.  Pure New England style – a tall, white steeple with a giant bell, stained glass windows and filled with warm pine pews.  The minister was new, just filling in while the regular pastor who was on sabbatical.  The new minister was a woman.

She was a petite lady with a helmet of short, gray hair and sparkling eyes behind thick, black rims.  She used to be nun years ago, but left to have a family.  Immediately I felt a kinship to this woman who took the road less traveled.  Starting down one path only to shock the world by turning around and going in the opposite direction.

I’m not sure what the service was about that Sunday, but I remember I wept throughout.  I couldn’t stop.  I just felt like somewhere inside I came home.  As the pastor spoke, she silently invited each one of us to know God not only by the words she uttered, but by her very presence.  This woman was peace - a beacon calling to a new life.

I do remember she spoke of a loving God who was with you always.  The words were a balm for my wounds and I could feel myself calm from the inside.  I breathed again.  Then we sang hymns, ones I had never heard before and suddenly I was singing the words, “Resting in the palm of God’s Hand,” and I was.

In that moment, I understood - I am never alone.  I looked at the shining faces around me and saw pure joy.  “Joy,” not pleasure derived from buying or attaining something, but joy - the glorious simmering of your soul in the fullness of life.  This was a place for me, resting in the palm of God’s hand.

Today I still use this imagery over and over whenever I feel lost, or out of balance.  Sometimes, as you grow up, you discover you have to release certain beliefs you were taught as a child.  I know this lesson of “There is no God, you have to do it all,” was taught to me with the best of intentions – survival.   However, it crippled my life and I became obsessed with control or truly, the illusion of control.

Fortunately, I changed my belief and allowed myself to feel supported by an abundant and loving God.  So now, in the dark of night, you can find me resting in the palm of God’s hand.  Maybe one day I will see you there too.