I still remember the very first boy crush who was so bold as to grab my hand. His was sweaty, clammy, and a bit bony, but I was okay with that.
Crush after crush I found, hand after hand I touched, and yet never has one been so perfect as yours.
To hold your hand is like holding the world, one sweet moment at a time.
Often sticky, sometimes sweaty, forever soft and pure. Nothing captures my heart like when you reach your gentle fingers my way. You hold on for support, for protection, for “just because.” I hold it back for deep love.
I take in the beauty, the way your little fingers curl around my one.
How I love you my babies, my jewels, the ones who take my breath away.
I sit, thinking about such things.
Suddenly, I hear Him.
It is my Father, my God, and He whispers to me:
“To hold your hand is like holding the world, one sweet moment at a time.
Nothing captures my heart like when you reach your gentle fingers my way.
You hold on for support, for protection, for “just because.” I hold it back for deep love.
How I love you my daughter, my jewel, the one who take my breath away.”
I sit, trying to grasp the utter magnitude of such love. I bask in it for a moment more. Then, duty calls and one of your little hands needs my assistance once again. I do not come to you alone.
I am the mommy, but I cannot do it by myself. Someone much stronger, much bigger, much more loving is holding my hand along the way.
Forever holding my hand.
With yours in mine and mine in His, we walk. We walk this precious road together, seeing the beauty that is called “today.”
Until, one of these days, I will need to let go. My heart will break for my sweet babies who are babies no more, those soft little hands, now larger than my own. Your grasp will then fall into His alone.
And I, a little broken, will not be handless. Even when you are gone. Even when I am wrinkled and gray. Someone will still be clinging tight, calling me His love.
He is my Father, and He will always hold my hand.