She stopped to talk with us for a moment in the yard where we stood.  We knew it was time for them to leave, but he wasn’t with her yet.

I glanced around, noticing the little tyke, his back to the big double doors at the top of the wide ramp leading into our storage building.  He seemed to be enjoying a moment of independence, having actually walked up the ramp backwards just minutes before.

But staring at us and, more specifically, at her, his countenance changed as he noticed her starting to walk toward him.  Holding his right hand high up in the air, palm outward, his stubborn face told us all we needed to know.

Whatever her plans were for him, he intended to stay at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s for a while longer.  His outstretched hand made that doubly clear.

It was inevitable; Over the vociferous objections of the youngster, Mom soon had the little fellow bundled into his car seat and headed for home and an overdue naptime.

Mamas know best.

They do.

I smile, thinking about the tableau in my head.  I feel a kinship to the young tyke—and more than the familial one.

I have raised my hand so often over the years of my life.

Many times, like him, it was to my mother.  And to siblings.  Teachers.  Employers. Wife.  Even to my own children, as my strength wanes and their wisdom grows.

We want what we want.

Oh.  I forgot one.

I raise my hand to my God.  Again and again.  And not in a good way.  Not in worship.  Not in the sense of recognition of His love and wisdom.

I raise my hand in rejection, in rebellion, in resistance.

I want what I want.

But I’m thinking tonight about a verse I learned many years ago that seems important to me.

“Delight thyself also in the Lord, and He shall give thee the desires of thy heart.” (Psalm 34:4, KJV)

I won’t yield to the temptation to lay out a 3-point sermon on the verse.  I feel certain that others can comprehend words they read as well or better than I.

I’ll just say this: I have been a follower of Christ for most of my life, and I’m not sure I am yet “delighting myself in the Lord” completely.  Still, I want nothing more than that.

And, when I do delight myself, giving my full attention to who He is and what He has done for me, I find my desires beginning to fall in line with what He knows (and frequently shows me) is His best for me.

But I still hold my hand up at times.  I still ask for just a few more minutes of doing what has caught my attention.  A few more days of seeking my own good pleasure.

But, more and more as I travel this way, I find myself realizing the good that He has always desired for me.

Always.

And, I think that’s what the journey has always been intended to bring about in us.

As we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with each other, and His blood cleanses us from sin.  I think the disciple named John wrote about that in his later years.

Why do we continue to act like little children, even into our old age?

I’ve been practicing on another song at Mr. Kimball’s old grand piano recently.  Well, I’m working on more than one, but this one is special to me.

Called “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus,” it was written just over a hundred years ago.  The hymn is still a favorite for many, although in recent years, it has largely been reduced to a chorus, the lovely verses having been abandoned by most in this modern day.

As I write this, I’m not quite ready to share a piano performance of the song, although it may not be much longer.  Time will tell.

But the lyrics to the old hymn have been whirling around in my head.  The little boy’s outstretched hand, indelibly imprinted on my memory, reminds me again tonight of the words.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus;
 Look full in His wonderful face
 And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
 In the light of His glory and grace.”

I’m looking.  And delighting.

The road is long.  But there’s room for more along the way. You could look and delight with me.

And, if going home to take a nap is part of the schedule, that’s certainly okay with me.

 

 

“Oh soul, are you weary and troubled?
 No light in the darkness you see?
 There’s light for a look at the Savior,
 And life more abundant and free.”
(from Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus, by Helen Howarth Lemmel)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2026. All Rights Reserved.