Hold Hands…Follow Me

Walking through an airport can be a tad overwhelming. Where is my next gate? The restroom? Starbucks? Ok, so maybe not Starbucks. But the level of activity and the sheer number of other people…can feel a bit frantic.

Today while walking through Chicago O’Hare airport, I heard the sweetest phrase.

Hold hands and follow me.

When I glanced across the walkway, I saw a mom standing with a baby on her hip and two other littles standing close by. The words I heard were her message to the kids. They listened, grabbed each other’s hands, and followed her.

What a precious picture. Yes, mom looked travel-worn. Her responsibilities were many. I don’t know where they were headed, but they were going together.

This scene caused me to question. Is that how God talks to me? Does he say, Look! Here are your family and friends. Just grab a hand and follow me.

Or perhaps, if unable to reach out, pick me up. Carries me like the baby on the mom’s hip. Leaving the hand-holding and following part to family and friends. Either way, I am never alone.

Side note: I really was traveling today. 😊 Spending a few days in beautiful Vermont. More to come…

7 thoughts on “Hold Hands…Follow Me

  1. What a coincidence! This (Vermont!) hermit, who lives in the very NE corner of the state, where he can’t even SEE his nearest neighbor’s home, has been driving around all week in Halifax, Nova Scotia, in bumper-upon-bumper high-speed highway traffic and crawling along in honkity-honk-honk downtown no-move carjams, wishing he was Paul Simon (ie Homeward Bound). Good thing I’ve got My Beloved Sandra to navigate for me and the computerized voice on her geo-phone thingy to help me get around. I’m grateful for someone’s hand to hold while they lead the way.
    Say hello to the Northeast Kingdom for me & tell them I’ll be back soon.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is beautiful my friend. 💛 I was thinking of my daughter-in-law and precious grands as they were stuck overnight in Minneapolis after flights were cancelled 5 times. They made it home to Alaska after 38 hours. My son said people were praising their small children and it made him feel proud. It’s because they’re loved. Flying is not as “fun” as it used to be. But seeing humanity at its finest is encouraging. Have fun my friend. Love and hugs. 💛🤗

    Liked by 1 person

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