Who’s holding your hand?

I pulled up to the red light and saw a man, standing tall, holding onto his daughter’s right hand.  They stood in between the lanes of traffic as they patiently waited for the time to cross.  The little girl held her father’s hand trusting him to lead her to safety.  She didn’t try to run ahead, she didn’t wiggle around, she stood still.

He turned and spoke to her and when he stepped forward so did she.  She held on tight and when the time was right he gently let go of her hand.  She then raced on ahead, only to the sidewalk’s edge, she stopped and waited.  He came and together they continued walking hand in hand..

The couple approached me.  They glowed.  Their joy and happiness was refreshing.  We exchanged a few kind words and they went on there way.  He looked at her, and without hesitation held her hand in his as they walked away together.

A nearby mom commented on how they must be engaged or newly weds.  Another piped questioning her comment as to why?  Her answer, because they were holding hands.

I chuckled to myself because I had to agree.  Holding hands isn’t exactly what it used to be when my husband and I were first married.  But then I got to hold another hand; my daughter’s and then, both of my son’s.  Their hands at first so tiny in mine, quickly began to fit in my hand as they grew.  Sometimes now they lead me instead of me leading them.  They lead me on wondrous adventures that my eyes don’t always see.

Now the only one left who holds my hand is Samuel and that’s only because I can still make him.  I know he won’t always because he’s growing into a man, but I’m so thankful that I got to for a little while.

I will tell you a secret, I like to hold hands with my husband.  It’s a special connection between him and I, it’s intimate.  It’s not like I can walk up to any man and say, “Can I hold your hand?”  Yikes.

There are days when we cannot hold hands, like this morning, that I longed too.  Remembering the girl and her father crossing the street, I sensed the Lord whisper to me, “I’m still holding your hand.”  With that simply beautiful gentle reminder, my heart was filled with joy.

Why?  Because even though I can no longer hold my dad’s hand, or hold my husband’s on a daily basis, and have to let go of my children’ hands so they can grow, the Lord is always holding onto mine.  I can trust Him.   He will not leave me or forsake me and that promise is for you too.

“My I say with confidence: I will praise the Lord who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.  I have set the Lord always before me.  Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.”  (taken from Psalm 16:7-8)

My question to you ~ Who’s hand are you holding?