I was making dinner in the kitchen … okay, I was heating up a package of frozen premade orange chicken.

It was a long day. Don’t judge.

I did sprinkle chia seeds on the salad, so that has to count for something. Moving on … I was cooking an extremely healthy, fully organic meal (ahem) in the kitchen, and I heard my four children shout with excitement. My husband, Brad, was home from work, and it was time for hugs and cuddles and running around the house with Daddy. One of their favorite games is when Brad throws them high into the air, then catches them at the last minute. This is a roughhousing-Daddy-only activity.

Most days the children squeal with laughter and beg Brad to throw them ’til he can’t lift his arms. But sometimes one of the kids might feel like he is flying just a little too high, and the squeal of laughter turns into a shriek of terror.

My mama bear heart wants to gather up my baby for a comforting snuggle, a pep talk, and a kiss to make it all better.

But everyone knows dads are different from moms.

Brad stops, looks his son in his eye, and says, “Who’s got you?” Our son responds, “Daddy does!”
Giggles return, and the throwfest continues.

Brad doesn’t reassure the children of their safety. He doesn’t reason with them logically about their fear.

He reminds his children of who has them.

Generally I live well within my comfort zone—I’m a wife, a mother, a friend, a neighbor, a good citizen. Even when things get difficult and I feel like I’m being tossed around a bit, my personality tends to enjoy the rollercoaster. Not that I enjoy the difficult times, like the sudden death of my mother or walking beside a friend going through a miscarriage. These things are out of my control.

But there are life moments when we feel like we’re being tossed just a little too high, and fear kicks in. “You want us to take a job across the country?” “You want me to ask the lady next to me in line at the DMV if she needs prayer?” “You want us to host a foster child?”

When I get that gentle (or not so gentle) urging from the Holy Spirit and my stomach drops in fear, I imagine God holding me in His arms, looking me in the eyes, and asking, “Who’s got you?”

My Daddy does. My Father who wants the best for me. My God whose character has never failed throughout all eternity.

He makes me brave. I say yes. I step out of my comfort zone. And I expect the adventure of a lifetime.