Held in His Steadiness Proverbs 3:5-6 - Personal blog of Trisha Rapley, Australian Author.

I watched him the way one watches a horizon—not to possess it, but to understand where the light comes from.

I never made my attention obvious. It lived in the quiet places of me, in the pauses between breaths, in the stillness that comes when the heart recognises something true.

I watched his actions long before I trusted my feelings, because actions do not lie when no one is asking them to speak.

I watched how he carried himself in a world that constantly demanded more than it gave back. How justice sat in his hands—not clenched, not careless, but steady.

How authority did not harden him, how responsibility did not strip him of kindness. He moved through people with fairness, through conflict with restraint, through duty with humility.

And I noticed everything.

The way he spoke to those beneath him without ever placing himself above them. The way respect followed him quietly, not because he demanded it, but because he earned it in the smallest moments—the moments most people think don’t count.

When I heard him coming, I would lift my eyes on purpose.

Not quickly.

Not desperately.

But intentionally—as if my soul wanted to acknowledge his presence before my body did.

Even a shared second felt like something to hold.

Even a passing glance felt like a gift.

Nothing was ever casual to me.

Not his voice.

Not his proximity.

Not the air that shifted when he entered a space.

I appreciated him in fragments, because fragments were all I was ever given—and I treated each one like it mattered. Having him around, I felt the safest I ever have. There was no tension in my chest, no need to brace or guard or prepare for.

Safety came quietly, the way truth does—unannounced, but unmistakable. And in those moments of safety, my love for him grew stronger, not rushed, not reckless, but rooted.

The kind of love that deepens because it is allowed to rest.

My intentions were always clean. There was no hidden hunger in my watching, no quiet manipulation dressed as admiration. I did not study him to take from him, but to honour who he was when he wasn’t trying to be anything at all.

Spending time with him beyond our shared responsibilities became a prayer I whispered to God without words. A hope I placed gently in His hands from the very first day our paths crossed.

Not a demand.

Not an expectation.

Just faith folded into longing—If it is meant, let it unfold. If not, keep my heart intact.

Each day near him shaped me in ways I didn’t resist. Not because he asked me to change, but because his presence awakened something dormant in me.

He made me want to show up as the truest version of myself—not louder, not smaller, not different—but more honest.

More grounded.

More whole.

He empowered me without ever touching me, without promises, without pursuit.

Just by being steady.

Just by being safe.

Just by being real.

There is a particular kind of ache that comes when admiration is rooted in respect and love is restrained by reverence. It does not shout. It does not rush. It learns how to sit quietly inside the chest and still feel immense.

I never loved him loudly.

I loved him in observation.

In restraint.

In prayer.

In becoming.

And even if he never knew, every moment mattered to me.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

In all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.

Proverbs 3:5-6

Lord,

Thank you for the moments you allowed me to feel safe. For the quiet presence that calmed my spirit and reminded my heart what steadiness feels like.

Thank you for the way you revealed character through actions, for showing me that justice can be gentle and strength can be kind.

Thank you for teaching me that love does not always arrive loudly, but sometimes in stillness, in consistency, in peace.

I place my intentions before you—pure, honest, and surrendered. If what I held in my heart was meant to grow, I trust you with its unfolding. And if it was only meant to teach me, I trust you with that, too.

Guard my heart, Lord, not by hardening it, but by keeping it clean.

Help me continue becoming the woman you are shaping me to be—not changed to be chosen, but refined because I was seen.

Thank you for every moment that mattered, even the ones that passed quietly.

Thank you for love that strengthened me without consuming me, and for safety that reminded me I am held by you first.

I release this prayer into your hands, trusting that you are faithful with what I never spoke aloud.

Amen.

Held in His Steadiness Proverbs 3:5-6 - Personal blog of Trisha Rapley, Australian Author.

Held in His Steadiness Proverbs 3:5-6 - Personal blog of Trisha Rapley, Australian Author.