Did you ever play tug-of-war when you were a kid? I did. And inevitably I would end up at some hapharzard place in the mass of kids on one side of the rope. I always felt like my puny contribution really didn't make a hill-of-beans difference in the grand scheme of things. I mean, who am I? I was just a runt of a kid. Shortest in the class. Me and the fat kid always got picked last.

I got a voicemail tonight. And I think that it was probably as important for the person calling as it was for me. It made my day...my week. But not because it was anything about me. But because it was someone on the other end of this rope that I hold. Someone saying, "hey, I'm on the end of this rope, and if you let go, there's no telling what I'm going to fall into." A simple voicemail. A few simple words to say, "don't stop holding the rope...for me."

I have a feeling, though, that the rope goes both ways. It's not so much that if I let go then that person is going to fall into a bottomless pit of desperation. It's more that if I let go then WE will fall. Maybe not into the same pit, but we still fall. We both lose. I have a feeling that if that person let go I would fall, and if I let go that person would fall.

You remember, don't you? It's just the physics of Elementary School tug-o-war...

Do you ever feel like sometimes you're just holding the rope? That's OK... It's good for you. And it's good for the human being made in the image of God holding on with you.

Keep holding the rope.