Hands

In our lives there are many moments that will come with out preparation or warning and they will steal one of those precious your breaths away. Some times they are beautiful things and some times well they are simply not.

In a quiet still moment this morning my life giving breath was not there. The flood gates opened and I hit my knees in a tangled mix of emotions. As I saw my hands open in prayer to my Savior my vision blurred for a moment and when it cleared I saw my daughters beautiful dark skinned hand nestled between my worn hands.

How I long for those hands to be really in mine. To be able to use my hands to guide hers. For my hands to be an example to her. To watch, not through pictures, but through my own eyes as her little girl hands change and become that of a young women.

I closed my eyes and saw her hands raised high as she praises our Lord. I saw them holding the firm but gentle hand of the man God has planned to be her husband. I saw them tenderly cradling a newborn as she becomes a mother. I saw them working hard in her home to care for her family. And I saw them holding mine tenderly as I had aged well toward my homecoming.

When I opened my eyes and glanced at my still open hands her little girl hands faded. In those precious moments she was here. In those moments my heart danced. In those moment my wailed.

But in those moments I felt other hands. I felt the merciful hands of my Savior holding me. In those moments and all the other moments of my life He is holding me. He is with me when my heart dances. He is with me when my heart wails. Never letting go or fading. Holding tight and whispering ...TRUST....you will hold her hands and watch her grow.