holding hands

I started to write this last weekend, but with all the emotional crap that hit the proverbial fan this past week, I got waylaid. Now I'm glad I did, because many comments and discussions this week led me to think more deeply about the power of touch. Touch is a love language. From the first time I held my niece in the hospital, and now she fights with her sisters over who gets to hold my hand as we cross the street or snuggle closest to me on the couch while we watch The Sound of Music for the umpteenth time, to the way I saw my dad's touch soothe his mother as she lay dying, to the ultimate touch of all... just thinking about all the powerful ways one can communicate just by holding hands... Lord, may I never be afraid to reach out...


HOLDING HANDS

A curious infant reaches out
Clutching just a finger
With all her tiny might
the perfect touch of wonder

A carefree daughter reaches out
Trusting like no other
In her snuggled safety
the perfect touch of joy

A comforting son reaches out
Not to receive but to give
A soothing last goodbye
the perfect touch of peace

A confident friend reaches out
Surprisingly tender and secure
Trembling with silent promise
the perfect touch of love

A constant pursuer reaches out
Eternally patient and inviting
Scarred for all to see
the perfect touch of Life