Wednesday, November 30, 2011

With clinched hands.

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I lay in bed along side my sweet husband, our hands clinched together.

He has big, strong, puffy caloused hands.

My small softened hand fits perfectly in his.

The hills of his palms fit like a puzzle within the small crevaces of mine.

They are always warm.
  The perfect temperature for my usually chilly hands.

He squeezes my hand tightly in his, rubbing his index finger up and down the center of my palm.

I feel his heart beating strongly through the small of my back.
The rythym soothes me, and beats in melody with mine.

With clinched hands, we both cry softly and the tears bring a healing rain.

We get lost in the moment, thanking our Father for what still is.

For what we still have within eachother.

Psalm 39:4
 Show me, LORD, my life’s end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting my life is.
You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Everyone is but a breath,
even those who seem secure.

My husband experienced a stroke this past Monday.

He is only 38 years old.

As we sat in the ER, we knew not what the outcome would be, but only that his heart was still beating.

For that alone, we were thankful.

As I sat beside his hospital bed, swiveling back and forth nervously in the rolling chair, my mind filled with a thousand thoughts.

Each memory we have shared danced in and out of my head.

I didn't think of how he leaves a pile of dirty shirts on the side of the bed swearing to me as I bend down to pick it up, that he is going to "rewear something in that pile, don't pick it up!"

I didn't think of how he loves to be right.

I didn't think of how he leaves his wet washcloths in the shower for me to find them later.

I didn't think of how he can push my frustrated buttons sometimes, aggravating me into infinity and beyond.

I didn't think of how slow he drives and how I sometimes want to yell out, "Put the pedal to the medal Pawpaw!  Let's go!"

I didn't think of how aggravated he gets with me when I leave my dresser drawer slightly open with my undies hanging out.

I didn't think of how aggravated he gets with me when I start talking before he's finished speaking.

I didn't think of how he procrastinates finishing projects around the house.

I didn't think of how he snores and keeps me up on most nights, causing me to bring my pillow and camp out on the couch.

None of that crossed my mind, in that ER trauma room.

I thought of...

how he hugs me with his entire body and soul each and every time he holds me.

how he smells.

how strong his hand feels next to mine.

how he looked when I first laid eyes on him 22 years ago.

the first time we kissed.

how his smile brightens up my day.

how scared and excited he looked when he asked me to marry him.

how he loves with all of his heart.

how he loves his cajun heritage and music.

how he holds me close while we sit in church and worship our Father together.

how beautiful his eyes are and how they sparkle when he gazes on one of his children.

how he cried with joy when they were each born.

the sound of his laugh.

how I catch him staring at me sometimes from across the room.

each time he has held me up with his strength and encouragement.

how he says my name with a deep passion and unmistakable love in his voice.

how he works so hard to take care of us.

how he makes me laugh more than anyone else, and even at jokes that sometimes make no sense at all, but to us they are hilarious.

how we can say a hundred things to one another, without speaking a word from our mouth, but with only a gentle look into eachother's eyes.

each and every mountain and valley we have crossed over and walked through together.

each time he said the words, "I love you."

I take a deep breath as the memories pile and pile.
I look at him and watch his chest rise and fall with each breath.
I grab his hand clinching it tightly within my own, feeling the warmth and strength in his palm.
I wipe the tears from his eyes as we wait in prayer and hope for a good diagnosis.
My soul wants to climb inside of his and make him better with the love we share.
I fight back tears as I try to be strong for all of us.
My heart is full with the 22 years of love and laughter we have had.
I feel it may burst with emotion.
I sit beside my groom, my friend, my love... soaking up every second with him.
I place my head on his arm, and we both take a deep breath in and exhale out.
I plead quietly with my Father for more time with him.

It's funny how it takes a tragedy to remind us of what is right in front of us.
How it takes almost losing someone to be reminded of their greatness in your life.
How those every day aggravations seem so big on a normal day, but become mere dust in the wind and a distant memory in a moment of tragedy.

Why does it take so much to remind us to be thankful of what God gives us every day?
Why does it take so much for us to appreciate the gift of life given so freely to us?

a precious gift from our Father.

James 1:17
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

We were alone for a little while last night after returning home from the hospital.
As we sat on the couch together, we held our hands tightly clinched together worshiping our Father.
 We cried together as we asked for His forgiveness in not seeing what is in front of us every day. 
 For taking advantage of all the gifts and opportunities that come with His Life flowing blood. 

As our tears continued to fall and moisten our tightly clinched hands, His Spirit filled our hearts.
We felt His love envelop us in the still of the moment.
Peace entered in.
His grace blew in like an autumn breeze, bringing in, yet again...a new day.
 a new beginning. 
another second chance.

As I lay in bed last night, holding my husband's hand in mine, listening to the beat of  his heart over shadowing my own, I began to smile contently.

I listened softly to his breathing as tears filled my eyes.

His breath gently pushing my hair to and fro.

As his sleep deepened, he began to snore obnoxiously.

I giggled to myself, smiled brightly, and thanked God for his Life.

For another chance.

With clinched hands, and a thankful heart, I fell fast asleep.

The One who gave us life, holds us moment by moment, with clinched hands.

Isn't that how we should hold one another?

John 13:34
"love one another, as I have loved you."

Hold tightly to those you love today.

Isaiah 40:11-12

Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock,
gathering the lambs in his arms,
Hugging them as he carries them,
leading the nursing ewes to good pasture.
 Who has scooped up the ocean
in his two hands,
or measured the sky between his thumb and little finger,
Who has put all the earth's dirt in one of his baskets,
weighed each mountain and hill?

1 comment:

  1. twice, you've been given a gift. with your own scare, and now his.
    i loved reading this. so sweet. such sweet moments for you -- all the togetherness and love and sighing and needing. it's all so very sweet.
    love you!


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