Thursday, August 2, 2007

Why Holding Little Hands?


(*Above pic: Chris and Park at a carnival a year ago)

I can remember the very first time Chris ever held my hand. When he casually locked his fingers around mine, it felt like our hands had already spent a lifetime together. I was so taken aback at the comfort and security I felt in his touch. Chris has huge hands and something about their warmth and strength makes everything in my world seem just right.

The very first time I took Park’s little palm in mine, I knew that he had inherited his daddy’s magical hands. Although his desire for independence can fiercely compete with his love for holding hands, at almost two, he will often still reach up to intertwine his fingers with mine. His absolute favorite thing is to wedge himself between Chris and me and hold each of our hands at once.

Sometimes we hold Park’s hand firmly and lead him from whatever danger he is so desperately trying to partake in. Other times we hold his hand loosely and introduce him to fun and exciting experiences. And sometimes we just hold his hand gently, and allow him the freedom to explore, while still enjoying the comfort of trusted companions.

Our hands give him the confidence and assurance he needs to try new things, yet they also give him the discipline and discernment to pull back from peril. While holding onto us, he is able to experience true freedom because he can explore, while knowing that we are there to keep him safe.

As I look down at those little hands resting in ours, I often think about the awesome responsibility of directing his path that we have been given. I also think about the parallels between how I hold Park’s hand and how God holds mine. God holds my hand in different ways at different times, for many of the same reasons I hold Park’s in a certain way.

Too often my desire for my own personal independence fiercely competes with my love of holding God’s hand. Just like Park, I often can pull in a different direction and need a gentle (or even forceful) tug to remind me that He is in control and knows the plans He has for me.

And when my hands are no longer adequate or capable of holding Park’s hands effectively, I will rest in Isaiah 41:10. My son is being upheld by the victorious right hand of the loving Father.

And that, my friends, is what Holding Little Hands is all about!

9 comments:

Kelli said...

Beautiful post, Brittani.

TaunaLen said...

This is so precious. I recently wrote a post about my 20 year old daughter's fingers slipping from mine as she launches out into the world. I still remember what those tiny fingers felt like the first time they held mine. Keep holding as long as you can. It gets better and better.

~TaunaLen

Dellie said...

Thanks Brittani for no longer lurking (although feel free to lurk around www.peteanddel.blogspot.com!) Really enjoying your blog, I too love that feeling of holding hands of my men (big and little!) Thannks for sharing these thoughts, by the way, I'm grieving with you for you sad loss of beloved Target ;o))

Amy T said...

Great post! Sarah sent me over to check you out and I can tell already you are going to be a hit!

Sun said...

LOVE your blog. I found your link from another favorite of mine, Sarah - In the midst of it...love her blog too. I am so happy to find this - have a great day. Sunshine

Lori said...

Yeah!! I'm so glad you emailed me the link. Welcome to blogging land. I can definitely tell that your an English teacher. Your so good at writing a story. I basically stick to posting beautiful/funny pics of the girls. I've been blogging since I was preggo with the girls and it's been the best way for everybody to keep up with The Walker family.

Christy said...

That is beautiful-I love it!

Ginger said...

What a great post! It is so reassuring to think that even though my 9 yo is too old to hold my hand, God is still their holding on for me.

clicks said...

your blog its awesome,i like ur baby,look like doll!