Oh, but He sees, and He could take it away in a second. In fact, He's the one that's really holding it anyway. I like to consider it to be in my hands, but that really isn't very true.
"Dear One," He speaks softly, "I have something so much better for you. But you have to let go of that thing you're holding first."
I bristle at the thought and take a few steps back. I consider running but I know I have no place left to go. At least not any place worth going.
"But," I start, barely speaking above a whisper, "if you take this, I'll have nothing left. I'll be alone."
"Will you?" He kneels before me, gets right on my level. "Am I going somewhere?"
I don't have an answer. I just cling to my dream, heavy in my hands behind me.
"Am I not enough?" He looks me straight in the face, and I can hardly keep His gaze.
"You are." I stammer. "It's just that I... I want this. How am I supposed to let go? How can I know you won't forget me?"
"I promise you, Dear One. I will never forget you."
I slowly bring my dream out from behind me and hold it close to my chest. It feels lighter than it did before, now that it's in front of Him. I try to loosen my grip and whimper, "But I love it, God."
He reaches out his hand and speaks three words: "Just trust me."