Last Wednesday, in our middle school girl's class at church, we talked about marriage. It made me spend time thinking about and appreciating what a blessing mine is to me. I was thinking about the vows that I made to Nathan and how I have thought of those words often.
When Nathan and I were married, 4 years ago, our minister spoke of the things our hands would do for one another. As I was holding Nathans hands in mine, preparing to put the ring on his finger and call him mine, Mike spoke these words:
"Marsha, these are the hands, young and stong, of the one who has just promised to love and cherish you all the days of your life together.
These are the the hands that will work long hours to earn a living for you and the family with which God blesses you. (I cannot tell you how hard those hands have worked)
These are the hands that will be nicked and bruised from trying to fix things around the house to make you more comfortable. (He does this tirelessly)
These are the hands that may look large and clumsy, yet they'll be gentle and kind as he holds your baby for the first time. (oh, and they were!)
These are the hands that will wipe tears from your eyes (They have already wiped thousands), that that will comfort you in illness (so, so well. They have even given me shots daily after my blood clot) and hold you when you're afraid.
These are the hands of the man who has vowed to love you always."
Then, as Nathan was holding my wedding band, eager to slip it on my finger, Mike read:
"Nathan, these are the hands of the one who has just promised to love and cherish you all the days of her life.
These hands are smooth and young and carefree now, but one day will be lined and rougher because of their work in seeking to make your life more comfortable.
These are the hands that will hold the children God blesses you with, soothing them through illness, and disciplining them as needed.
These are the hands of the woman who has vowed to love you always." And I will....Always.
I was prepared for the hands worn and wrinkled from work. From washing dishes and cooking meals. From playing hard with children and scrubbing their messes. For hands that held little hands, and books while I read to sleepy faces. Hands that held their daddy's hand at church. Hands that washed clothes and worked in the yard. Hands that sewed and created. Hands that loved.
These hands were not prepared to hold my son as the life went right out of him. They were not prepared to hand his lifeless body over to my family to hold for the first time. They were not prepared to hold him as I kissed him for the last time and handed him back to the nurse. These hands were not prepared to lower his tiny casket into the ground and cover it with earth. These hands were not prepared to go home with nothing to hold.
I was reading through the words that Mike spoke about our hands and I came to the important part....
"Remember, these are also the hands that you will lift in praise to God for the blessings He bestows on you. And these are the hands you'll need to daily fold in prayer as you pray for each other and your family as it grows in the years to come."
Please God, don't ever let me forget to daily lift my hands in praise to you.
