Holding On

I make my kids hold my hands when we're crossing the street or parking lot, unless my hands are full. Then I tell them "Put your hand on the cart" or "Hold onto my shirt" or sometimes just, "Hold onto something on me." Shelly often grabs Eli's foot. This is for safety, of course, keep us all together, the four/five of us in a little herd as we move through the world. But sometimes, when we're back on the sidewalk or safely inside the store, I hold on for just a little longer. Their hands feel so small and precious in mine. They're so quick to pull their hands away. I don't want to let go, I don't want to think about the day when their hands will be grown up, they'll be too old to hold my hand. Maybe that day won't come...

I remember holding my grandma's hand helping her get into the car, it felt so fragile. She was so small.

I remember laying my hand on top of my Grandpa's and praying.

Maybe we don't outgrow taking a loved one's hand, for safety, for companionship, comfort. I pray my kids learn this as they grow up. There's always a hand you can reach out to for help.

The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him;
though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand.
~ Psalm 37:24

photo by FinkStudios