Thursday, May 26, 2011

I will hold my hand out to you, speak the peace you long to hear

There's something special about hands.

I can be a bit eccentric, this is not news to most people.  But there's something I just love about hands.  Not just any hands mind you.  I don't sit and ogle people's hands, how they look, could they be hand models and that kind of stuff.  No, I like certain hands.

I like when George holds my hand.  We'll be out and about, could be Kroger's or church or another store.  But, George always holds my hand.  And, for some reason, I always marvel at it.  I take it for granted that that hand is always going  to be there, God willing.  That his hand, which is bigger than mine and stronger than mine, holds my small one so tenderly.  It's not even the holding of my hand as much as it is the fact that he reaches for my hand.  It's a simple little gesture that makes me feel immensely loved.  His hand reaches for mine and offers me support as I'm walking stairs (up or down) or just plain walking (I am not coordinated lol).  My hand rests in his as we watch television or go for a walk.  I like my husbands hands.

I like when my kids hold my hand.  Sure, they're teenagers now.  And, it still surprises me, when out in public, my 17 yr old son reaches for my hand, not being phased if any of his friends are around.  His hand used to be so small in mine.  Now, it is almost as big as his dad's, and mine feels so small in his.

I have a close girlfriend and sometimes we hold hands as we walk.  It makes me feel like I'm six years old as we giggle and tell each other our secrets.  It makes me feel loved.

Father Tim said something years ago about death.  I'm not sure if it was at a funeral Mass or not.  But he said something along the lines of how we, people, on our death bed, look for a hand to hold almost as if to know we are not alone.  Of course, I'm paraphrasing here.  But like a lot of stuff  Father Tim says, that stayed with me.

Seven years ago, I attended a Christ Renews His Parish retreat.  Each retreat weekend has a name.  The one I attended was In the Hands of the Father.  So hands seem to have always been something special for me.  While I know God is always there for me to hold my hand, sometimes, I just need the physical hand holding from Him.  And, He gives it to me in the form of you, my friends.

Until next time,

I wish you beautiful days and starry nights.
I wish you wrongs so you may celebrate the rights.
I wish you sweet dreams and blessings untold.
I wish you love and  a hand to hold.


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