Holding hands is very dear to me. I loved growing up holding my parents' hands as we walked into church or around crowds. I felt...safe. I loved holding hands with sweethearts over the years. I felt...special. I love holding hands with my husband. I feel...loved. I loved holding the tiny little hands of our babies. I felt...blessed. I love holding the hand of an aging parent. I feel...treasured. I love holding hands with my family as we pray together. I feel...grateful. I love knowing that God is holding me in His hand continually. I feel...hope.
Yet sometimes my hand slips...and I fall. Or I hurt someone else. Or I mess up in life. Or I don't do what I should. How precious to know that He doesn't let go of me...even when I think I have let go of Him. I feel...amazed.♡~thl
John 3: 16
"Trust God's hold on you more than your hold on God." (Max Lucado)
Yet sometimes my hand slips...and I fall. Or I hurt someone else. Or I mess up in life. Or I don't do what I should. How precious to know that He doesn't let go of me...even when I think I have let go of Him. I feel...amazed.♡~thl
John 3: 16
"Trust God's hold on you more than your hold on God." (Max Lucado)
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