Hold.

I’m a visual person.

When I read books, and new characters are introduced, I actually pause, use my finger as a bookmark to hold my place, and try to imagine what a the character looks like. Are they tall or short? What color is their hair? What do the expressions on their faces look like…when he scowls, laughs, or cries? Does she have an overbite? Is she frumpy? Is he classically handsome and gruff in nature, at the same time…or is he just an ugly human being, all together?

Part of the adventure in reading, is that you get to create an entire world in your head right along with the story. It’s safe. You see what you want to see.

However, in movies, it is laid out in film, there for your voyeur heart to witness, and nothing is left to the imagination. You see what they want you to. This is the beautiful and dangerous things about movies. Some things cannot be unseen.

Images have so much power, and we cling to them to give us strength when we need it. People are searching…they are searching hard for inspiration, hope, and strength. Sometimes books and movies have the power to give those things to us, because they are something that we willingly sit down to, in focused attention, and soak in what we take in. There is one in particular that I imagine a lot, in prayer, when I feel like I’m about to break. It’s from Braveheart.

It’s a scene of resilience and strength, where the enemy charges William Wallace and his men, at full speed, with cavalry and spears in their hands. The men stand there with blue painted faces, shields and weapons in hand. The Calvary charges, and William Wallace says, “Steady.”

The Calvary comes closer, and Wallace says “Hold.”
Charging ahead, and Wallace says, “Hold.”
Still closer…and Wallace bellows, “HOLD!!!!”

As they approach, with spears raised, Wallace screams, “NOWWWWW!!!!!!!” and his army raises their spears as the horses approach. They were ready for what was to come. His army is unshakable, as all but one of his men stared ahead with steely eyes. In a moment of fear, Hamish (Wallace’s best friend) glanced over at Wallace with a “Are you sure about this?” look…but he stood steadily. As an aside, every person I show this to, notices that split second of uncertainty in Hamish’s eyes…it’s only a split second, and we are all acutely aware of it…probably because we are all thinking what he was. When are you going to move on this?!?

I love this scene because it reminds us of the fact that there is always a plan, and just because we don’t see it or understand it, doesn’t mean that God is not at work or that He doesn’t exist. He really does have it all figured out, and he doesn’t need our help or approval to make it so.

I know that by the time this battle took place, Wallace and his men were tired. They witnessed the deaths of friends, for a cause they were told was unimportant. Yet, they persisted.

As a boy, Wallace grieved the death of his father and brother. He was a common man, and not treated well. He had to marry the love of his life in secret, and ultimately witnesses her cold-hearted murder, by the hands of men that tortured her before her death. I can’t ever bring myself to watch that scene…it hurts my heart too much.

Some things cannot be unseen. Hold. I’m sure he whispered it to himself, just as much. Hold on…better things are coming.

We are capable of of great things, and we give in to despair, so easily.

Why?!? What do we believe we were promised? That life would be easy? That there wouldn’t be hardship? That it wouldn’t call for perseverance?

This last year, the boys and I lost the place we called home to a monster called Harvey. We lost my father shortly after. He fell and hit his head, and was rushed to the hospital. The next day, after a night full of tests and staples, he was taken back to the hospital and would stay there for the next three weeks, until he was sent home to hospice. He was a cancer patient, and his heart was so weak that it could not continue.

The boys had just changed schools, and everything felt unsteady. There were so many nights that we cried ourselves to sleep together, with hands clasped in desperation, but I could hear it…God saying, “Hold.”

Some days, George (my son) was Hamish. “I can’t, Mommy,” he said defeated, holding on to me, teary-eyed. “This is too hard.”

Some days, I was Hamish, as I cried in the shower where they couldn’t see me. “I can’t,” I said to God, with tears rolling down my cheeks, waiting for the water to wash them away. “This is too hard.”

And God whispered “Hold.”

We clung to that word. We trusted in it.

We stayed still as God said “Hold.” We moved when God said “Now.” It was painful, and hard, and peaceful all at the same time.

Once, my friend Elizabeth and I were in conversation and she said, “Sometimes, it’s just as important to stay still, as it is to move forward.” These are some of the best words of advice anyone has ever given me. It’s true. I have lived and survived in the Still, and I have lived and survived the Movement.

We survived those nights, and the morning came. The joy came back. The peace came. We have grateful hearts. We are joyful.

Sometimes we want to move straight into action, but God whispers “Hold.”

Recently, George shared that he has been bullied at school since around January. This boy whispers things in his ear like “You are weak, and I am strong,” on a weekly basis.

It broke my Mama heart, and I was angry when he told me! I was ready to charge! I got out my computer, and tried to portray calm, as I shakily wrote the teacher an email. I was so furious that someone could treat my child this way…he has such a sweet heart for the world and people around him.

As I typed, I calmly asked George, “What is your response to this boy when he says things like that to you?”

He looked up at me unshaken, smiled, and said, “I am not afraid of you.”

I was in awe of his calm and confidence, and I am every morning, when he bounds out of the car with a smile on his face and marches into school, like the little soldier that he is.

God does not send us into battle without a plan, and most of the time, we don’t need to move in it. It moves on its own.

We simply have to trust in it.

Even when we are shaken.

Even when we are moved.

Even when we are unsure.

We must hold onto the promise of the plan and better things to come.

“For I know well the plans I have in mind for you…plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11