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Take My Hand, Come With Me

Throughout our seventeen-year relationship, Stephen would often play his latest riff and say, "What do hear?" Ninety-five percent of the time, I was nowhere near where he was, creatively, in that moment. He was in a relationship with the characters he was creating. Everything was full of fireworks and excitement. I was strolling by a waterfall, alone in the sunlight, picking flowers. Of Stephen's 1280 or so songs, "Written by Stephen and Nancy Tefft" is a line few and far between. He, however, liked the challenge.

On this particular evening, the kids went to sleep without much of a fight. He and I sat close together, and he softly played his latest riff. Something came to mind immediately, and I laughed.


"You're not going to like it," I replied.

"How will I know if you don't tell me?"

"Okay," I sighed, "Take my hand. Come with me."

I was strolling by the waterfall of my imagination, alone in the sunlight, picking flowers, and he met me there. He sang to me there. He reached out his hand to me there. I took it, and I let him lead me away from all of the hurt from my past. I fell in love with him there, and I remain in love with him there.

As the years went by, I listened to the song remade and remixed. Something changed in my understanding, and I found myself thinking of God's love. This was not a private love song, but rather a personal love song between every person and God.

Jesus is waiting for us in the place where we hide. Jesus is reaching out His hand to us, calling us out of hiding to stand with Him, and asking us to allow ourselves to be rescued by Him. His love for us is so much more than we understand. It is grandiose, and yet it is private and personal. It is in the open for everyone to see, and yet it is so close that it can only be seen, heard, and felt in the silence in our hearts.

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