He Only Took My Hand
July 12, 2019

I’ve really been missing Hagen the last few days.  I’ve tried very hard not to let it get me down and I’ve had to fight moments that I refuse to go to because of the pain.  Those moments being the circumstances around his death and the days after.  Those are incredibly painful and I just won’t allow myself to go there.  It would just be allowing torture, so just no. The enemy knows that and on the days I’m down those are the thoughts that he loves to put on the tip of his arrows.  He aims, shoots, and watches the arrows bounce off as I hand them to the Lord.  Those are burdens I want Him to carry because they are too much for me.


Some days there are only a few shots taken, and others, like the last several, there’s an onslaught.  They still bounce off and I still give them to Him, but it seems like we spend the day doing that.  That’s ok.  He’s always there.  He’s always got my back regardless of the attack, but sometimes it wears me down. Today was one of those days.


To say I pray is more or less an understatement.  My prayers are more of a continual conversation.  From the time I get up until I finally go to sleep, I’m talking to Jesus.  And, yes, sometimes it’s out loud.  Sometimes the enemy gets an earful too.  Some might think that’s more than a little kooky, but it works for me.  Jesus listens and Satan flees.  That’s the authority I have in Christ so I’m using it.  It’s a win-win for me.


On the way home from work today, I was just about beat down from the enemy trying to bat me around like a plaything.  Missing my son is one thing.  Being tortured by bad memories is another.  I’m tired of those little reindeer games.


I know that the enemy is sneaking around wanting to devour me, and I’m tired of him hijacking my grief, so the conversation that Jesus and I had on the ride home tonight was about how much I missed Hagen and I prayed a hedge of protection over that.  My grief, loss, whatever you want to call it, is between me and the Lord.  Just us.  The third party can take a hike.


Keeping in mind I’ve struggled with the details surrounding my son leaving this life, I want to share with you what someone posted to my Facebook timeline.  She had NO way of knowing what I was struggling with or how hard I was fighting.  But God did.


Ronda Hutson, thank you! Thank you for being obedient to the Lord’s leading because only He knew that this would paint a new picture in my mind’s eye - A beautiful picture of Jesus taking my son’s hand instead of what the enemy was throwing at me.  Only He knew that this would strengthen the armor.  Only He knew.  And I know someone else needs it as much as I did.


HE ONLY TOOK MY HAND

Last night while I was trying to sleep, my son’s voice I did hear, I opened my eyes and looked around but he did not appear.

He said “mom you’ve got to listen, you've got to understand God didn’t take me from you, Mom he only took my hand.

When I called out in pain that night, the instant that I died, he reached down and took my hand, and pulled me to his side.

He pulled me up and saved me from the misery and pain, my body was hurt so badly inside, I could never be the same.

My search is really over now, I’ve found happiness within, all the answers to my empty dreams and all that might have been.

I love you and miss you so, and I’ll always be nearby. My body’s gone forever, But my spirit will never die!

And so, you must go on now, live one day at a time. Just understand – God did not take me from you, He only took my hand.

-Author unknown


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