Self Care Saturday 06/28/25

I've been thinking lately about a week from years ago that nearly broke me. My son, who's on the severe end of the autism spectrum, was going through one of his hardest seasons. Being nonverbal meant his pain came out sideways through meltdowns that could last hours, furniture getting overturned, and me standing helplessly in the aftermath, wondering if I was strong enough for this kind of love.

I remember one particular Thursday evening. We'd just survived a three-hour meltdown that left him exhausted and me feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. I somehow got him to bed, then collapsed on my bedroom floor with my back against the wall. The house was finally quiet, but my body was still shaking.

The thoughts came fast and harsh: You're not cut out for this. Other dads would handle this better. You're failing him. I felt trapped between loving my son fiercely and feeling completely overwhelmed by his needs. The guilt of sometimes wishing life was easier made everything worse.

That's when I remembered reading somewhere about an ancient prayer posture: palms on your lap facing up, open to receiving something from God. It sounded too simple, almost silly, but I was desperate. I rested my hands on my knees, turned my palms toward the ceiling, and just sat there.

At first, my mind kept racing. What if tomorrow is just as hard? What if he never gets better? What if I can't do this? But slowly, something began to happen. The tightness in my chest started to ease. My breathing deepened. It was like the Holy Spirit was teaching my heart something I couldn't figure out with my mind how to stop carrying what was too heavy for me alone.

“What if I can’t do this?”

In that quiet space, with my hands open and my defenses down, I felt something I hadn't in weeks: held. Not by my own strength, which was clearly running on fumes, but by a Love bigger than my fear. I wasn't fixed, and neither was my situation, but I wasn't carrying it alone anymore.

It reminded me of something James wrote: "Draw near to God and he will draw near to you." I'd always thought drawing near meant doing more, praying harder, reading more, trying to be better. But that night I learned it could be as simple as opening empty hands in surrender and admitting I had nothing left to give.

And somehow, in that small act of moving toward God, I felt Him moving toward me.

The next morning brought another meltdown. But something had shifted in me. I was still tired, still imperfect, but I knew now where to go when the weight got too heavy. I had learned to open my hands in surrender and receiving.

Years later, I still come back to that night on the bedroom floor. Not because it solved everything, but because it taught me that sometimes the most profound help comes not through getting stronger, but through surrender and being honest about our need His grace.

James knew something about this dance of drawing near. "Draw near to God and he will draw near to you," he wrote. Not a transaction, but an invitation. A gentle choreography where our smallest step toward God is met with His faithful movement toward us.

“Draw near to God and he will draw near to you.” James 4:8

Journal Prompt:

Open your journal and write: "Dear God, when I sit with open hands, I'm saying yes to receiving what you want to give me..." Then find a quiet place to sit. Rest your palms face-up on your knees and simply breathe for five minutes. Notice what comes up: peace, restlessness, gratitude, questions. Jot down whatever you experience.

Thought:

You are not drowning, even when it feels like you are. Even in your exhaustion, even when you feel like you're not enough, you are deeply loved and you are not alone. There is grace for this moment, and strength you haven't discovered yet.

Today, try the practice of open-palmed prayer. Find a quiet corner, sit comfortably, and rest your hands on your knees with palms facing upward. Your heart posture should be one of being ready to recieve God’s presence and grace for today’s struggle. Even five minutes can shift something inside you. Let the Holy Spirit teach your soul what it means to receive.

Have a blessed day.

Mike