HANDS

In anticipation of Father’s Day this Sunday, I am sharing a series of reflections on my new journey of fatherhood. This reflection was written in late January 2017.

hand

 

These little fingers, only 16 weeks old. Grasping on to my one finger, just a tad older at 1,913 weeks.

This small hand, grasping on with all her might. Her troubles are secured, her fears disappear. For this moment in time, she is safe. She is home.

My mind looks at this image and goes in a number of different directions.

I imagine how her hand will grow and then let go. I anticipate the day when she will hold on to another, praying that those strange fingers love her and respect her as her father does.

I imagine holding on to her hand as she learns to walk, when she goes to school for the first time and when she just needs to talk.

Now it is simple. For now.

As I reflect more, my thoughts turn into a prayer. Not only a prayer for her future but rather a prayer of reflection on God.

If God had a hand, and if I could hold it, would this image be reversed. Perhaps it is my hand here that is the small one, just hoping to grasp God’s.

Maybe, it is my daughter’s hand that is closer to being like God. I wonder if when I am holding her hand, am I holding the hand of God.

Is this the love that Jesus speaks of when He says in the Gospel of Matthew “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. (MT 18 3-4)

In this photo, on the surface, it is a daughter in her first months, holding on to her father. Dig a little deeper and we find a father holding the hand of God.

May my hands not disappoint; may they do what God requires. Not only for this little girl, but for the tired but hopeful dad trying to be a hand worth holding.

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