He Held My Hand

Yesterday, while sitting in church, a beautiful thing happened. My seventeen-year-old son, Aaron (A. J.), held my hand. He held my hand without any prompting from his mother or sister. “What’s the big deal, you ask? So what, he held your hand.”

I hear you, maybe it’s not a big deal to you, but it is for me because it speaks to the measure of the man my young son is becoming. This simple act of taking me by the hand revealed the sensitive and discerning nature of my son.

I had forgotten to take my medication, and as a result, my hands began to shake. A. J. saw it and simply reached over and took me by the hand and held it throughout the service, only letting go so I might take communion. No words were spoken, and yet I heard his declaration loudly, “I’m here, dad!”

As I reflect on this simple act of love and caring, by my son, I’m struck by the power of simplicity. It is in the small, simple actions we take that others hear the shouts of our true selves.

“Come on, Sam, it’s not that big a deal, so he held your hand.” Yeah! he held my shanking hand and, without a word spoken, said, “Hey Dad, I’m here, and I care about you and the challenges you are facing.”

Thank you, son, for holding my hand, I needed to hear your unspoken words of encouragement!

So, today, I will remember that it is in the whisper of simple acts that others hear the resounding chorus of encouragement and find the strength to move forward.


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