Lord, I praise and thank You for the little hands of my children I have been blessed to hold. For the hands that once held mine so tight when I was afraid in the night. And for allowing my hands to be stronger now for the ones who need mine so much. Lord Jesus, thank You for Your hands, for their strength, their comfort and love.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Remember the first time as a mom you placed that little ones hand in yours? You counted all the fingers and toes, cried knowing she or he was finally here. You keep that little hand in yours, holding them, loving them, comforting them, and watching them grow. You watch them through the night, praying for them, making sure they are covered and warm. You watch those little fingers grow into your hand. You hold their hand as they take those first steps, wobbling from side to side. You hold their hand when they skin their knee, when they are going up steps, and down, keeping them from falling. You take their hand to swing them, as they want to go higher. You help them up the big slide, watching that grin from ear to ear, knowing that one day they will take that big step all by themselves. You hold their hand while crossing the street, while strangers are standing by, while being in the store, and being in line getting that hamburger and fries. Soon, before we know, that little hand is not so little anymore. That once little hand, is off and trying to do things on their own. As a mom you just want to hold on as long as you can, but in your heart you know you need to step back and allow them room to grow. Those little hands are forever imprinted on your heart. As a mom, we hope our heart is forever imprinted on their hands. We hope that when they are no longer in reach, they know that our hand is there. We teach those little hands to pray, to reach out, to have mercy, to show forgiveness, and to be wise in all things they touch. We pray as mothers that our children will grow in faith, and walk with the Lord in all their days. Many times it is not until our children have children of their own that they know just how special it is to hold the hand of your precious one, and how hard is it to let go and let them grow. I still love the touch of my mothers hand. Now, my hand is reaching for her hand, holding on to her to make sure she doesn't stumble and fall. I take her hand to help her see, and to keep her steady. I take her hand to help her into the car so she can settle in safe. My mothers once big, strong hand that took mine in hers is now small and weak. Now, that hand means more to me each day. Her hand print will forever be embellished on my heart. It is a beautiful circle in which our hands come together. Just the reach of a hand, the touch of the fingers in yours says, "I love you".