Holding Hands

Tonight we were together as family — I’m talking blood relatives. The family you’re born into for better or worse. On most days I’m happy with my family, and thank the Lord for having been raised by godly, loving parents. I miss my parents, and when we go through hard times, I miss them more. God reminds me, though, that we still have each other for times such as these.

So, as we gathered our noisy bunch to pray prior to eating, I instinctively reached out my hand to my niece and my son, and they in turn grabbed that of the person next to them. Young and “relatively” old, we bowed our heads, as my brother-in-law expressed our gratitude to God for the life we were now missing, for the blessing of family, and especially for the gift of salvation through Christ that made this life worth living.

Oh, how different and uniquely made we each were, but in the holding of hands, we were united together in love, in grief…as family.

These moments are what make current grief more bearable and continued grief less painful. Smiles, hugs, the touch of hands …┬áreminding me that Jesus touches us through others, if we let Him.

Grace and Peace

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