Are You Holding it Together?

Someone asks, “How are you doing?”

And sometimes the most truthful answer might be: “I'm holding it together.”

We know what that means. I'm managing. I'm keeping things moving. I'm taking care of everyone. I'm paying the bills. I'm doing my job. I'm carrying the responsibilities. I'm trying not to let anything fall apart.

But what happens when there is simply too much to hold?

There seems to be plenty of uncertainty around us right now. Conversations about artificial intelligence raise questions about work, creativity, relationships and a rapidly changing future. Economic fears make us wonder about jobs, savings, retirement and whether there will be enough. Then there are the things much closer to home—our children, aging parents, health, relationships, responsibilities and decisions we cannot control.

And somewhere underneath all of it may be an assumption we rarely say aloud:

I have to hold this together.

Then I hear Paul's words about Jesus:

“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” — Colossians 1:17

Read that again.

Scripture doesn't say you hold all things together.

It says Christ does.

Maybe we've been asking the wrong question.

Instead of “Am I holding it together?” perhaps the deeper question is:

“Who is holding me?”

In Deuteronomy 8, Moses warned Israel about the illusion of self-sufficiency. Once they were settled, prosperous and secure, they might begin believing, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me” (Deuteronomy 8:17). They might forget that everything they had ultimately came from God.

We have our own versions of that illusion. If we plan enough, save enough, work hard enough, know enough and prepare for every possibility, perhaps we can make life secure.

Until something reminds us that we can't.

That's why Isaiah's words feel so timely: “Do not fear what they fear, and do not dread it. The LORD Almighty is the one you are to regard as holy” (Isaiah 8:12–13).

God wasn't telling Isaiah that there was nothing frightening happening. There was. He was telling Isaiah not to allow the fear surrounding him to determine the posture of his heart.

There is an important difference between wisdom and fear. Wisdom pays attention. Wisdom prepares. Wisdom asks good questions. Wisdom acts when action is needed.

Fear tries to convince us that everything ultimately depends upon us.

And it doesn't.

After wrestling with enormous questions about God's purposes in Romans 9–11, Paul finally reaches the limits of what he can understand and responds:

“Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!” — Romans 11:33

Paul doesn't figure everything out.

He worships.

Perhaps faith isn't having enough answers to eliminate uncertainty.

Perhaps faith is knowing whom we can trust in the uncertainty.

We don't know exactly what technology will look like ten years from now. We don't know what the economy will do. We don't know what tomorrow will bring in our families, our health, our church or our world.

But we know this:

Jesus Christ is Lord.

Our hope has never rested upon a certain world.

Our hope rests upon a certain Christ.

So maybe today you can stop asking yourself, “Can I hold all of this together?”

You were never asked to.

Instead, open your hands and ask:

“Jesus, can I trust that You are holding me?”

And hear again the good news:

“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”

Being Held With You,

Pastor T

Spiritual Practice — Open Hands

Find a quiet place and sit with your hands tightly closed. Notice the tension in them.

Begin naming before God what you are trying to hold together—your family, finances, health, future, work, relationships, responsibilities, church, or something happening in the world.

With each one, slowly open a finger until your hands are completely open.

Then pray:

Jesus, You are before all things,and in You all things hold together.I release what I cannot control.Give me wisdom for what is mine to do,courage to do it faithfully,and trust to leave the rest with You.When I cannot see what You are doing,remind me who You are.Hold me as I learn to trust You.Amen.

Remain for a few moments with your hands open—not as a sign that these things don't matter, but as a reminder that you do not carry them alone.

Gather

1. What are you trying hardest to “hold together” right now?

2. Where is the line between faithful responsibility and attempting to control something that belongs to God?

3. How might your response to uncertainty change if you began with the truth, “In Christ all things hold together”?