Holding On

I don’t like letting go

But changes happen, like melting snow

Whether it’s a t-shirt of memories

Or a friend anniversary

How many photos do you delete?

Sometimes it feels like I’m admitting defeat.

How do you respond when a friendship deflates like a balloon?

You thought it’d last forever and it’s gone so soon.

When is it time to admit the pants are too tight,

The picture is shredded, or it’s time to say goodnight?

When is the crack in your mug a danger?

When should a loved one become a stranger?

When do you let go of being the best?

What’s left to argue, can you give it a rest?

Were we made to move on? Grow apart in time?

Are we doomed from the start, pretending it’s fine?

Whether distance or difference or our sinful self,

Each goodbye and grievance is added to the shelf

At what point, I wonder, will it all collapse?

And will my broken spirit be able to put it back?

It’s at this point I cry out to Him

The only one who sees where I End and Begin.

Others point out things, shiny and new,

But He gets my desires pure and untrue.

He didn’t scrap this world, make something else

Doesn’t move on, but stays as it melts.

He scoops us up, says He’ll never leave,

And as you know, from His Word He never cleaves.

He is my rock and refuge, His steadfastness is real

But my heart remains soft, I’m not made of steel.

So when I am lost (as I always am),

I frantically reach out and grab His soft hand

And that’s where I hold on.

The very tightest.