I saw my hand and a rope. I was trying to hold onto the rope, but my hand was at the end. I could see the rope separating and starting to fray. I was slipping, and the rope was giving away. Then another hand envelops mine. A worn and calloused hand. A tanned and tattered hand. A nail scarred hand. It came from nowhere and covered my hand with a mighty strength, so powerful I could feel it. Feel the flesh on mine. And I knew it was going to be OK. When I can no longer hold on, He, Jesus, is here to help me. He will carry the load, and let me hang freely while He nourishes my soul with His peace and love. He will carry me until I regain the strength to hold on and fight for myself again. Because He loves me so much. Thank You Lord, for answering my prayers. Thank You for showing me this, and sending me this security. I will follow You. I will praise You in the storm, because You are worth it. Thank You for grabbing my hand, and teaching me.