My youngest daughter asked me to get her a drink of water before finishing up her bedtime routine. Instead of getting the water for her, I invited her to walk with me to the kitchen so that we could get it together.
I reached out my hand, and she placed her tiny fingers in my palm. I gently folded my fingers over hers, and we walked together.
This carefree act of love is very meaningful to me as a father.
When my daughters hold my hand, I know that ...
As a father, my hands must be both strong and gentle. They must be ready to defend my loved ones but never scary the ones I love. They must be ready to hold the things that no one else wants to hold and that no one else can hold.
I never want my children to flinch when I raise a hand. I hope they never cower when I enter a room. Instead, I want my children to come near me, to hug me, to sit next to me, and to hold my hand. I desire peace in their lives, not fear.
Gifts are an extension of the hands that give them. Thoughtful, meaningful gifts show a caring heart. Gifts that are not carefully thought out make a person doubt the hands, and therefore, the person who is giving the gift.
As a father, I have an opportunity to shower kindness on my kiddos and show them an example of how to bless others through giving. I desire good gifts for my kiddos.
Hands are tools that guide the lives of others. A gentle tap on the shoulder, a little nudge, and an extended hand are all ways we guide others. When my daughters take my hand, they show me that they trust me and my guidance.
Holding hands tests the trust of two people. Our minds question the hands of a stranger. "While you lead me astray?" "Will you keep me safe?" "Will you take me down the wrong path?"
But we will let a trusted confidant lead us - eyes closed and without question. I desire to guide my kiddos down the straight and narrow path!
When my daughters hold my hand, I prove my love for them in real and meaningful ways. I tell them with my actions that I am available to them. I tell them that I am present.
My hands must compliment my words. And when I fail, my hands and my hugs must make up for the words I should not have spoken.
And when I serve my daughters by not speaking a word, just listening, I use my arms to pull them close and my hands to dry their tears. I desire that my daughters feel my love!
Holding hands is a two-way street. It is a lovely dance. With my wife, holding hands can be romantic and supportive. With my daughters, holding hands is a neon sign that flashes "I am here for you."
And my daughters use touch to shower love on me. They extend their arms to be picked up. They wrap their arms around me to comfort me in my sorrow. They grab my hand in excitement to show me their artwork or guide me towards a seat to watch the play they have been working on.
Holding hands is a way to both show love and been shown love. I desire that my daughters never grow to reach out and hold my hand!
Dear Fathers,
We all come to the table with different struggles and experiences. Some of us have used our hands to show love. Some of us have used our hands as weapons that have destroyed those around us.
We have a choice to make. Do we continue down a path of fear or do we use our hands to protect, provide, guide and care for the people who are most important in our lives?
Let us choose love. May we be intentional and present so that our wives, daughters, mothers, and sisters know that feel comfortable holding our hands.
Walking this journey with you,
@SumatraNate
