Yesterday, as we were coming home from our trip, my husband casually reached over to grab my hand, as he usually does when we are in the car for an extended amount of time. The familiar feeling of our joined hands sparked the warm fuzzy feelings that usually accompany Mark's touch. When I looked down and saw our fingers intwined I became aware of how grateful I was for this strong hand that was holding mine.
These hands that work all week to provide our house, our food, our clothes - our livelihood.
These hands that work in the evenings to fix our toilets, our walls, our leaky washing machine and our cars.
These hands that work outside to trim our trees, cut our grass, and kills the bugs I hate!
These hands that throw a ball for our pup and will one day hold our babies.
These hands that open up the scriptures and fold with mine to pray.
I love his hands and how perfectly they fit with mine.
Oh memories of the days when these hands would "accidentally" brush mine before we were dating. Or the way they made my pulse race when he purposefully held my hand for the first time.
How is hands were trembling when he placed the ring on my finger and asked me to be his forever..
The way his hands held mine firmly and surely at the altar as he promised his life to me.
Is this getting too sappy? It probably is. I'm sorry, I just can't help it sometimes! It's good to just take some time and appreciate your husbands love, you know? I am so grateful the Lord saw fit to give me these hands to hold for the rest of my days and I pray that these hands are always strong for their tasks and that their touch always gives me that warm fuzzy feeling.