Daddy hold my hand

One of my sweetest memories of my dad is a simple car ride.

40 years had separated us, but on this particular day nothing separated us except the space between us in the backseat.
I traveled hundreds of miles to finally meet my dad for the first time.

After spending several days together, we decided to go for a car ride so dad and his wife could show us around their town. My husband was driving and dad's wife was co-driving, giving instructions for every turn that my husband was to make.

Dad and I sat in the backseat. After some small talk, we both became quiet and just enjoyed being with each other. It was in that moment of silence that dad reached across the seat and took my hand. For the rest of the ride, we didn't speak, we just held hands.

Now that dad is gone, I have moments that I wish I could take his hand again. That peaceful moment is what I need now. Oh to sit next to my heavenly Father, grasping His hand as He outstretches it to me. Not saying anything, just sitting in His presence.

Oh, if only every road I traveled on, I would not let go of God's hand!

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me." ISAIAH 49:16