The Hand of the Father
I recently saw the movie, The Sound of Freedom. The drama is based on a true story of a man who worked for Homeland Security capturing the “bad guys” who were trafficking children. But, he couldn’t leave it there after learning of a particular young boy and girl who had been stolen from their loving father’s care through a ruse. The real-life hero ends up rescuing many children who had been trafficked, even at the expense of his job. Those sweet kids were eventually reunited with their good earthly father. If you haven’t seen this important movie, and you can deal with reality, I suggest you go. Share it with others too.
America’s Sad Role in Trafficking Children
Sadly, did you know the United States is the recipient of the largest number of children BOUGHT and SOLD into SLAVERY? These young innocents are trapped in a life time of slavery where their hearts, minds, and bodies are abused daily. Right here in our land of the free! I can only imagine how desperate and hopeless they must feel.
Realizing how America as a nation is complicit in this sex trafficking should move us all to speak and act.
Through my tears at the movie, I remembered my “safe” childhood and I prayed for all the children across the globe who are not. I realize in speaking to this unspeakable reality that some who read this may have been abused without being trafficked. Your pain was real, and was inescapable at the time.
Trafficked and abused kids need advocates. They need us to step in and free them from slavery as real as the slavery of the 1800s. They also need to know they have a Father in Heaven who will never leave them.
Hands of Love
In my childhood, my daddy was my hero–as it should be, for all children, if we lived in the world God intended, not one wracked with sin. Was my father a perfect example of an amazing, most godly man? Not entirely. Yet, he was my hero and I never suffered abuse. He loved me unconditionally, and supported me throughout my life. I always knew I could count on him. He was trustworthy. When I hurt, he comforted me, and yes, he took my small hand in his large one so many times.
Reminded of comfort, the other day I was exhausted from caregiving our senior “pup.” I decided to lay down in the afternoon to catch up on lost sleep. My bedroom was darkened, the fan was going, and soothing Christian music played on my phone. I had a flashback to my childhood.
Safe
On hot summer days, before the era of home air conditioning (imagine that), my mom would spread an old, but silky comforter on the floor with an oscillating fan blowing nearby. That’s where I was to nap. I recalled the feeling of being loved and SAFE laying on Mom’s blue comforter with the fan blowing back and forth. Such a tender memory.
Of course, my desire is for ALL children to feel safe and loved. May we get laws changed to halt this disturbing destruction of God’s children. As the line in the movie states, “God’s children are not for sale.”
God’s Hand in Mine
In my lifetime, I have experienced disappointment and tragedy like most of us have in one form or another. In those difficult days, I wondered what my next step would be when everything I knew and loved was gone. “But God….”
As a younger woman, I ran at night to escape my emotional pain and to help me find sleep. At my lowest moments, with no other source to lift my pain, I felt the presence of God Almighty. Unmistakeably, God took my hand. I was not running alone. He was with me and I knew it with certainty.
Max Lucado, prolific Christian author and teacher, wrote: “But since the power of prayer is in the One who hears it and not the one who says it, our prayers do make a difference.”
When my earthly father took my little hand in his enormous one, I knew I was not alone and he would see me through. Just as my dad provided for his little girl, my Perfect Father in Heaven takes my hand even today. Through the thick and thin of this ever-darkening world, I know He will not forsake or leave me.
Or you —
