When HE Holds Our Hand

Honey For The heart - 10

A Drizzle of Raw Honey 🍯
Have you ever looked up… in silence? Not because you had no words, but because you weren’t sure if there’s anyone up there. Ever sat beside someone you love, watching them slip away… and with them, your faith quietly fraying at the edges? Have you ever whispered a prayer you weren’t even sure would reach anywhere? And waited — not for an answer — but just a sign that you’re not alone in this echoing silence? Come. Sit with me. Read this slowly. And maybe… just maybe… you’ll hear something you didn’t know you were waiting to hear.
This one is not meant to be read…it’s meant to be absorbed

The wind was wild that evening. Pooh and Piglet sat huddled beneath the twilight sky, wrapped in silence, watching the last leaf of autumn tremble on a near-bare branch.

Pooh whispered, “Piggy… when everything’s falling apart, does God really see? Hear? Come?”

Piglet turned toward him. “What do you mean, Pooh?”

“I mean…” Pooh’s voice trembled, “when someone we love is hurting… or ailing… or falling apart, and we’re praying with all our might — waiting for a miracle — and still, nothing happens…”

He paused. “We start to wonder if there really is anyone up there!”

Piglet didn’t answer right away. He let the hush sit gently between them.

Then he said, “Pooh, do you remember that storm I got caught in? The one near the river?”

Pooh nodded slowly. “I was so scared… I kept praying you’d come back.”

“I was scared too,” Piglet said softly. “Soaked, cold, certain I wouldn’t make it. I didn’t know who I was calling out to… but I did anyway. I closed my eyes and cried from the deepest part of me.”

He took a breath. “And when the winds were the loudest… and I was sure I was going under… a tiny voice inside me whispered, ‘Not yet. Hold on.’”

Pooh looked up, eyes searching. “Was that God?”

Piglet gave a quiet smile. “Maybe. Or maybe it was the part of me that still wanted to live — the part that turned fear into faith… and despair into strength.”

He added gently, “Maybe God isn’t always outside us. Maybe He is that voice. The one that shows up right before we break.”

Pooh nodded slowly, listening.

“Sometimes,” Piglet said, “God can be a stranger who reaches for our hand. Or a word, an instinct… a friend. And sometimes… He’s just the will to try one more time when everything tells us to give up.”

They sat with that.

Then Piglet leaned a little closer. “Pooh… sometimes the miracle isn’t that things work out our way. It’s what we become when nothing seems to be working — and we still don’t give up.”

The last leaf let go — and floated gently to the ground.

They watched it fall.

And somehow, in that quiet surrender, Pooh felt… held.