I was 3 years old, so this would be in 1954. My bed was next to an interior wall, and the foot of the bed faced down the hall. The only window in the room was on the opposite side of the room. I don’t know what time it was when I woke up, but it was in the middle of the night. A bright light coming in from the window caught my attention. I rolled over quietly to investigate it without getting out of bed. Mother did not like me getting up at night. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. There, coming in through the window, a hand. Not just a hand, but a giant hand. Bigger than my bed.
“Come here, child.” Without any hesitation, or fear of Mother hearing me put my feet on the floor, I got up. The hand was so big and took up so much space in my small bedroom that it just took me a few steps to get to it. It was a left hand. I grabbed onto the thumb and climbed up into the giant palm. I do not remember the words of the conversation we had, me sitting there in YWHW’s left palm. What I do remember was a feeling of complete safety, love, caring. How long I sat in his palm that night, I do not know. What I do know is that I have been in the palm of his hand ever since. He told me so 6 years ago.
This part of the story I chronicled in the historical fiction novella I wrote, First They Came for the Cows; An Activist’s Story. A friend and I were driving home from a garden club meeting when a wicked spring snow storm dumped a couple of inches of snow in an hour. She lived on the other side of the mountain, where a snow covered dirt road falling apart from spring thaw equals nasty driving. Like driving on confectioners sugar covered chocolate pudding. Just like that.
I dropped her off at the bottom of her driveway, could hardly see the porch light she had left on so I waited letting my headlights be the light for her walk up to the house. Slowly I backed out of her driveway once she was inside, put the car in drive and continued on my way home. A few minutes later a voice filled the inside of the car. “I’ve got you in the palm of my hand.” I was startled but I’d heard YWHW’s voice before so I wasn’t scared. Or fearful. My first reaction was to start praising him. Next then I knew my car skidded on some ice, took a 45 degree spin and was coming up on a 6 ft culvert that Vermont dirt roads can be famous for. It would have made for an awful inconvenience trying to get it out dressed in springtime footwear and clothes at night with no cell phone service.
But here’s what happened…the car came to a feather-light stop at the very edge of the culvert.
I threw my hands up in the air and really started praising YWHW. He said, “Will you do as I ask?”
“Send me, Lord, send me!” (Isaiah 6:8 – Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.)
“Tell them it is the mark of the beast.” For context, I was working to fight off the National Animal Identification System at that time, a calling I felt from YWHW, and worked hard at it for 5 or 6 years.
Everyday, and especially when I feel low, I only have to remember that He’s got me in the palm of his hand and he’s never, ever, ever, ever going to let me drop.
Stay tuned…there is more to come.