2025 — The Year That Love Held Me.

When I was younger, I remember praying this prayer in my quiet moments with the Lord: “Lord, hold me and don’t let me go. Huwag mo ko bibitawan, please?”

I prayed it because, deep down, I knew this truth about myself—no matter how much I profess my love for God, my own grip would fail me. I could not fully trust myself to remain faithful to the faith I claimed to believe in. There might come a day when I would loosen my hold, when I would betray the very values I hold dear. When I would fall short, be confused, or be persuaded by the lies the enemy so patiently whispers.

But if God were the one holding me, I knew that He would never let me go. So I prayed.

This year began in chaos. I made decisions I wish I could take back—decisions I both regret and do not regret simultaneously. It’s ambiguous. I regret that I should have known better, that I didn’t choose wisely. And yet, I do not regret that in the process, I came face to face with parts of myself I never knew existed, the ugly, messy, disoriented, darker parts of me.

It humbled me in ways I still struggle to put into words. And yet, somehow, through unbecoming circumstances, my heart was changed for good.

By God’s grace, things are clearer now. I am certain of where my heart is and has always been.

They say that bummer lambs—those who are rejected and broken—are bound to die unless the shepherd intervenes. They cannot survive on their own. So the shepherd takes the lamb home, keeps it warm by the fire, hand-feeds it, and carries it close to his chest so the lamb can feel his heartbeat until it is strong enough to return to the flock.

And when the shepherd calls his sheep, it is often the bummer lambs who come running first. Not because they are more loved than the others, but because they have experienced firsthand the love that held them.

The other day, I watched a trending video of people declaring what God did for them this year. It made me pause and ask myself, "If I were to declare what God did for me in 2025, what would I say?"

Then, while reading Scripture, I came across Psalm 73:23:

“Yet I still belong to You; You hold my right hand.”

And there it was. My answer.

God reminded me of the prayer I used to pray when I was younger and how He answered it.

God held me this year.

I have this quiet and a bit weird habit of pretending I am holding God’s hand randomly throughout my days, while declaring Psalm 16:8:

“I keep my eyes always on the LORD. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.”

For the longest time, I thought I was the one holding Him, like two people choosing to hold hands together. But this year proved me wrong.

It was God, all along. He was the one holding me. And that was the only thing that kept me.

Love held me at my worst. Held me even when my own grasp failed. Love held me in broken places, gathering the pieces and putting them back together—more beautifully than I ever could. It held me in the dark, reminding me that I am not alone. It held my doubts and questions with patience, unoffended and unrepulsed. It held my fears until they no longer ruled me.

A year has gone by. I am still here, not because of anything I did to make things better, but because love held me and never let me go.

And I pray to do the same thing for the rest of my life.

Dear Lord, help me to hold on to You too, for as long as I can, and when I cannot anymore, don't let me go.

“…when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him and would not let him go.”— Song of Solomon 3:4