Living with Open Hands

Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

He closed his eyes, extended his arms, and opened his hands, palms facing up. It wasn’t a special occasion, just an ordinary day, but I had a present for him. The excitement on his face, one eye peeking open, squeals and giggles as he shuffled his little feet in place and used all his will power to contain himself for just one second longer. I put a small toy in his hands, and you would have thought I gave him the world.

The innocence of this little boy. The trust to close his eyes and take anything I would give him. The thankfulness and gratitude for something so simple.

He knows I take care of him. He’d follow me anywhere.

Somehow, when I see his bravery, his trust, his abandonment, it serves to contrast the courage my heart holds as I walk through each day. How often do I live my life like that? How often do I trust? How often do I close my eyes, extend my arms with open hands, and accept what God gives me with excitement? With trust? Without fear?

Almost never.

I imagine God watches me, prying my hands open. My clenched fists being broken as I let go, one tiny bit at a time.

If we’re honest with ourselves, how many of us would say…

I’ve seen too much to trust.

I’ve seen too much to truly believe that things will be good.

I’ve had too many prayers go unanswered to really believe.

I’ve seen sickness and catastrophe and abuse and death, and if God is there, he isn’t good.

We live our lives with clenched fists and jaws locked. Surrender isn’t an option. To survive in this world requires every ounce of will power we have, and only then do we barely squeak past the finish line. We get bruised and beaten down.

And yet the bravest thing we can do is live like a child. Trust in spite of negative experience. Surrender in spite of fear. Love in spite of hurt. Living with hands open in spite of all contrary evidence.

Isn’t that what this life is about though? Living with open hands, giving love and receiving it? Loving others even when you’ve felt heartbreak? Putting yourself out there, getting up everyday, and living with courage, even when the world isn’t kind or fair or loving?

That’s bravery… living life with open hands, surrendering, even when you know what it means to seemingly have things taken from you and even when you feel like the hands you’ve been dealt are all bad. Do it anyway.

Be brave.

Open your clenched fists and live like a child. Faith. Hope. Love. Kindness. All like a child.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now

So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Her View Shop

Faith Trust

Lexi Behrndt

Lexi is a mom to Lincoln here and Charlie in heaven, a writer at Scribbles and Crumbs http://www.scribblesandcrumbs.com/ and The Huffington Post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lexi-behrndt/, a Communications Director, and the founder of The Charlie Sawyer Project http://www.thecharliesawyerproject.com/ You can find her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/scribblesandcrumbs Twitter: https://twitter.com/lexibehrndt Instagram: https://instagram.com/scribblesandcrumbs

You Make Our Marriage Work and I Love You More than Ever

In: Faith, Marriage

Husband and wife, smiling, selfie, color photo

I used to write love letters to you. I’d sit in my dorm room for hours, penning pages of poems that you’ve apparently kept in a drawer in our bedroom closet ever since. Recently, you mentioned you miss that girl. We laughed because neither of us knew you would turn out to be the sentimental one. And I was thinking, but never said, that the older, more cynical version of me has no idea how to write a love poem anymore. I look at love differently now. I’m different now. We’ve waded through years of never-before-known territory—sometimes treacherous, often mundane,...

Keep Reading

Going to Church with Kids is Hard but We’ll Keep Showing Up

In: Faith, Motherhood

Going to church is hard with young kids. It used to be something I looked forward to. It’s something I’ve always valued deeply and needed desperately. It’s the one place that will always be home regardless of what location or building it’s in or what people attend. Church is my sanctuary. But it’s become a battle with the kids’ resistance, my tired mind and body, and my lack of ability to actually listen to the sermon. Going to church is hard with young kids. It’s become normal for me to lie down in bed on Saturday night thinking, with dread,...

Keep Reading

I’m Praying for My Teenager in These Challenging Years

In: Faith, Motherhood, Teen

Teen boy holding a smartphone and wearing headphones

In my mid-40s, I began to long for a baby. We didn’t get much encouragement from friends and family. My husband is a high-functioning quadriplegic, and I was considered way too old to start a family. But our marriage was stable, we were used to obstacles, we were financially prepared, emotionally experienced, and our careers were established. I began to paint my own sublime mental portrait of parenting tranquility. What could go wrong? At 48, I delivered a healthy baby boy, and he was perfect. We adored him. The baby we had longed for and prayed for, we had. And...

Keep Reading

When Motherhood Feels Like a Limitation

In: Faith, Motherhood

Twenty-one years ago, my husband Troy and I welcomed our first son into the world. Two years later, I gave birth to another boy. And again two years later, and again two years after that. A fifth boy joined our family another two years later, and a final son was born 11 years after we began our parenting journey. If you were counting, you’re not mistaken—that’s six sons in just over a decade. We were overjoyed and more than a little exhausted. I remember feeling frustrated with the limitations of the little years with young children when I was a...

Keep Reading

The Day My Mother Died I Thought My Faith Did Too

In: Faith, Grief, Loss

She left this world with an endless faith while mine became broken and shattered. She taught me to believe in God’s love and his faithfulness. But in losing her, I couldn’t feel it so I believed it to be nonexistent. I felt alone in ways like I’d never known before. I felt helpless and hopeless. I felt like He had abandoned my mother and betrayed me by taking her too soon. He didn’t feel near the brokenhearted. He felt invisible and unreal. The day my mother died I felt alone and faithless while still clinging to her belief of heaven....

Keep Reading

Jesus Meets Me in the Pew

In: Faith

I entered the church sanctuary a woman with a hurting and heavy heart. Too many worries on my mind, some unkind words spoken at home, and not enough love wrapped around my shoulders were getting the best of me. What I longed to find was Jesus in a rocking chair, extending His arms to me, welcoming me into his lap, and inviting me to exhaust myself into Him. I sought out an empty pew where I could hide in anonymity, where I could read my bulletin if I didn’t feel like listening to the announcements, sing if I felt up...

Keep Reading

Can I Still Trust Jesus after Losing My Child?

In: Faith, Grief, Loss

Everyone knows there is a time to be born and a time to die. We expect both of those unavoidable events in our lives, but we don’t expect them to come just 1342 days apart. For my baby daughter, cancer decided that the number of her days would be so many fewer than the hopeful expectation my heart held as her mama. I had dreams that began the moment the two pink lines faintly appeared on the early morning pregnancy test. I had hopes that grew with every sneak peek provided during my many routine ultrasounds. I had formed a...

Keep Reading

5 Kids in the Bible Who Will Inspire Yours

In: Faith, Kids

Gathering my kids for morning Bible study has become our family’s cornerstone, a time not just for spiritual growth but for real, hearty conversations about life, courage, and making a difference. It’s not perfect, but it’s ours. My oldest, who’s 11, is at that age where he’s just beginning to understand the weight of his actions and decisions. He’s eager, yet unsure, about his ability to influence his world. It’s a big deal for him, and frankly, for me too. I want him to know, deeply know, that his choices matter, that he can be a force for good, just...

Keep Reading

Mad Martha, Mary, Mom, and Me

In: Faith, Living

Woman wrapped in a blanket standing by water

As a brand-new, born-again, un-churched Christian fresh in my new faith with zero knowledge of the Bible, I am steaming, hissing mad when I first read these words from Luke 10:38-42: “Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Pray away My Anxiety But I Can Trust God to Hold Me through It

In: Faith, Living

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid. I was scared of people, of speaking, and even of being looked at. As I got older, I worried about everything. I was aware of the physical impact that stress and worry have on our bodies and our mental health, but I couldn’t break the cycle. I declined invitations and stuck with what I knew. Then we had a child who knew no fear. The person I needed to protect and nurture was vulnerable. There was danger in everything. It got worse. He grew older and more independent. He became a...

Keep Reading