HOLDING HANDS

I will never forget that day I took my little grandsons hand, he was only four years old, he gripped my hand as I took him to the shop. My heart was breaking inside as I had no idea when I would see this little one and two other grandsons again.

I love the way that hand signifies trust, you are going to take care of them, look after them, protect them, lead them. It felt so good holding his little hand. Somehow even though I had no way of knowing what the future held deep down I had this feeling that it was not going to be an easy path and there was much pain to come. A God given instinct I suppose!

It has been quite a few years now, I long for that little hand to be in mine again. To feel his trust, his love, but alas time goes by quickly and children grow and I will be a bit of a stranger now. Probably not someone he would feel he could trust.

Another child went that day also, a woman perhaps, but still to me my child. She no longer wants to reach out a hand to me and at times it is like a spear piercing my heart. The years are passing and time becomes precious as one gets older. A few olive branches later still no reconciliation. Perhaps there never will be but one cannot give up hope, for without hope we are lost.

Sometimes I cry out to God, ‘Why?’ and try to bend His arm to work in the situation, but we all have free will. I cry to Him of my pain and how awful it is and how He could not understand. It is then He gently reminds me of all the hands that He has held that now reject Him. He reminds me that just as I wait for this child to return so does He, along with many others hands.

Today as you read this if there is a hand you are waiting to hold again, stop now and send up a prayer to the Father who awaits many little hands today.