I Will Hold Your Hand

The warrior squinted across the shimmering heat of the battlefield, eyes blurred with sweat and blood. The fight he had entered for the love of his king had become a fight for his life, and he was alone -- alone in a sea of foes. He could remember nothing now but the violence he had endured, and could endure no longer. He swayed as the dark swarm of enemies advanced, and his hand trembled, dropping his sword. His legs gave way, and the empty quiver rattled against his back as he fell to his knees. Suddenly, a strong arm encircled him from behind, raising him to his feet again. A voice he knew well spoke in his ear, "Fear not, I will help you."

"My lord!" the warrior cried, and new vigor entered him as he remembered the one he served. He willed himself to stand, but his quivering fingers could not hold the weapon that lay in the dust. He felt shame for his weakness, but his king stood beside him, took his shaking right hand in a kind and firm grasp, and turned toward the enemy, holding his own sword aloft. The warrior took up his shield, sheltering himself between it and his king. He heard the shouts and cries of the battle, but they seemed far away -- nothing mattered but the hand that stilled the trembling of his own. When he opened his eyes, all was still. He scanned the battlefield once more: not one foe remained. Again he fell to his knees, this time in wordless gratitude to the one he fought for, the one who fought for him.

For I, the Lord your God,

will hold your right hand,

saying to you,

'Fear not, I will help you.'

Isaiah 41:13