I wrote this several weeks ago, and thought I would add it to my blog in honor of Father's Day coming on Sunday. Of course, I think I have the best Dad ever. I know he would do anything for me, at any time. He has proven that time and time again! (Such as coming and getting me when I have run out of gas or locked my keys in the car for the zillionth time.) I thank the Lord for the blessing that my dad is to me. Words to describe my dad...kind, giving, loving, trustworthy, honest, strong, and ummm, hot-tempered - but don't tell him I said so! AND, he is the best Papa to my boys! Love you Dad!
My Father’s Hands
His hands were gripping the steering wheel, trying to keep the car safely on the icy interstate. Instantly, the water-works began, just as they had for the past several weeks. I was getting married soon, and everything seemed to send me into tears. I was ecstatic about my upcoming wedding, but not about moving five-hundred miles from everything that was near and dear to me.
I took a mental snap shot of my father’s hands that day. I knew I could later pull it from my heart when I needed the comfort of home. My dad’s hands were thick and powerful. The skin was like leather from the many hours he had worked outside in the harsh elements. I knew the palms of his hands were hard and calloused. The measure of the man was visible in his hands. They had held me in tight embraces, guided me as I crossed life’s many streets, built me a tree swing, and pushed me higher than anyone else could. My father’s hand had been placed on me in times of sickness and sorrow. I had watched as he raised them in worship and dropped in tithes and offerings as the plate was passed. Those work-hardened hands had slipped me extra money for unnecessary shopping adventures, and were providing the means for the wedding of my dreams. I never wanted miles to separate the memory of the hands that had done so much for me.
The realization that I was taking my well-being out of capable hands and placing them it another man’s hands became overwhelming. I began to question the safety of my fiance's hands compared to my fathers. Would he be able to care for me, provide for me, or even understand me the way that my dad did? Could I trust his decisions when the trials of life came our way? The outside cold seemed to seep in and wrap its icy fingers around my heart.
An image began forming in my mind as I pondered this. My life was not being held in the sturdy hands of my dad, but the precious nail-scarred hands of my heavenly father. His hands had provided healing, salvation, and safety at the times in my life that my earthly father had been unable to. In fact, his hands were taking my fear and anxiety of that moment and replacing it with His peace. I realized that the Lord had ultimately guided every step of my life thus far. Even more importantly, He would continue to do so in the next phase that I was entering.
The following week, everything was in place. The candles were glowing, the music was playing. I took a deep breath as I let go of my father’s hand and turned toward the man I had given my heart to. Together, in the presence of family and friends, we placed our lives into the father’s hands. I knew He would be leading, guiding, protecting, and providing for me, just as He always had.
His hands were gripping the steering wheel, trying to keep the car safely on the icy interstate. Instantly, the water-works began, just as they had for the past several weeks. I was getting married soon, and everything seemed to send me into tears. I was ecstatic about my upcoming wedding, but not about moving five-hundred miles from everything that was near and dear to me.
I took a mental snap shot of my father’s hands that day. I knew I could later pull it from my heart when I needed the comfort of home. My dad’s hands were thick and powerful. The skin was like leather from the many hours he had worked outside in the harsh elements. I knew the palms of his hands were hard and calloused. The measure of the man was visible in his hands. They had held me in tight embraces, guided me as I crossed life’s many streets, built me a tree swing, and pushed me higher than anyone else could. My father’s hand had been placed on me in times of sickness and sorrow. I had watched as he raised them in worship and dropped in tithes and offerings as the plate was passed. Those work-hardened hands had slipped me extra money for unnecessary shopping adventures, and were providing the means for the wedding of my dreams. I never wanted miles to separate the memory of the hands that had done so much for me.
The realization that I was taking my well-being out of capable hands and placing them it another man’s hands became overwhelming. I began to question the safety of my fiance's hands compared to my fathers. Would he be able to care for me, provide for me, or even understand me the way that my dad did? Could I trust his decisions when the trials of life came our way? The outside cold seemed to seep in and wrap its icy fingers around my heart.
An image began forming in my mind as I pondered this. My life was not being held in the sturdy hands of my dad, but the precious nail-scarred hands of my heavenly father. His hands had provided healing, salvation, and safety at the times in my life that my earthly father had been unable to. In fact, his hands were taking my fear and anxiety of that moment and replacing it with His peace. I realized that the Lord had ultimately guided every step of my life thus far. Even more importantly, He would continue to do so in the next phase that I was entering.
The following week, everything was in place. The candles were glowing, the music was playing. I took a deep breath as I let go of my father’s hand and turned toward the man I had given my heart to. Together, in the presence of family and friends, we placed our lives into the father’s hands. I knew He would be leading, guiding, protecting, and providing for me, just as He always had.
Points to Ponder
“I trusted in thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art my God.
My times are in thy hand…” Psalms 31:14, 15.
Very beautifully written and well said. Every time I run across something you write I sit back and say wow! So thought provoking and you always speak to the heart of the matter. You are a beautiful person inside and out and I'm so blessed to know you. Love you girl!
ReplyDeleteGreat blog. I will be following you from now on. I love what you write.
ReplyDeleteYour family is very special to us. It has been a pleasure getting to know them and you, as well.