We rode the ferry at the beach this spring. As I looked over the edge at the waves, I found myself clenching my fists. The fear: that somehow my wedding ring might slip off. If I think of different places I could possibly lose my ring, most of those places would prove recoverable. In the middle of the ocean, though, I kinda doubt I would ever see my gold band again. So, I clenched my fists just to make sure. It hit me that I often do that with our boys. I try to hold them so tightly in my hands. There are so many fears I have for them; so many things that could go wrong. Plus, the idea of them growing up is almost too hard to bear, so I hold them even tighter. Today I remembered that our Father “holds us in the palms of His hands.” Instead of clenching my hands and heart around them so tightly, I need to be lifting their names to the Father. He has promised to hold his children, and I’m confident He will do a better job than me.