Posted on 10/04/2014 1:27:44 PM PDT by SoFloFreeper
It is both awkward and encouraging the feedback I have received over the past few years for the writing I have done during my beloved’s illness, homegoing, and absence. I especially rejoice when I hear that the things I have written have served another in a time of hardship. It remains my intention to use what I have written in a book in the future. That said, I still believe that the most vulnerable, most insightful, most helpful thing I wrote all along this journey was this brief tweet:
I wish I had held her hand more — R.C. Sproul Jr. (@RCSproulJr) May 4, 2012
That is likely my deepest regret, that I did not hold her hand more.
It’s not, of course, that I never held her hand. It is likely, however, that I didn’t as often as she would have liked. Holding her hand communicates to her in a simple yet profound way that we are connected. Taking her hand tells her, “I am grateful that we are one flesh.” Taking her hand tells me, “This is bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.” It is a liturgy, an ordinary habit of remembrance to see more clearly the extraordinary reality of two being made one. It would have, even in the midst of a disagreement, or moments of struggle, communicated, “We’re going to go through this together. I will not let go.”
It would have also reminded us both of that secret but happy truth we kept from each other, that hidden reality that is equal parts embarrassment and giddy joy: that we’re just kids. Bearing children, feeding mortgages, facing adult sized hardships never really changes what we are inside. Holding her hand was like skipping through the park. Holding her hand was winking at her, as if to say, “I know you’re just a kid too. Let’s be friends.”
On the other hand, holding her hand more would have communicated to us both my own calling to lead her, and our home. Hand holding is a way to say both, “You are safe with me” and “Follow me into the adventure.” It would have reminded me that there is no abdicating, no shirking, no flinching in the face of responsibility. And as I lead it would be a constant anchor, a reminder that I lead not for my sake, but for hers.
Holding her hand more also would have spoken with clarity to the watching world. It would have said, “There’s a man who loves his wife.” It saddens me that so many only learn this after their wife is gone. Perhaps most of all, however, I wish I had held her hand more so that I could still feel it more clearly. I wish it had been such a constant habit that even now my hand would form into a hand holding shape each time I get in the car. I wish I could fall asleep feeling her hand in mine.
I know all this, happily, because I did hold her hand. I received all the blessings I describe above. I just wish I had received them more. It cost nothing, and bears dividends even to this day. If, for you, it’s not too late, make the investment. Hold her hand, every chance you get. You won’t regret it.
R.C. Sproul Jr. is rector and chair of philosophy and theology at Reformation Bible College. Originally published at RCSproulJr.com
Indeed.
I don’t know if any freepers pay attention or care about my posts in the past. I am an unmarried business owner expanding here in Warsaw. I started dating a wonderful Polish woman. You don’t have a choice of holding hands here. The only time we are not holding hands is when she has my whole arm. It seems to be the way it works here. Young or old you hold hands always. Even when you’re arguing. I must admit I do find it nice.
Touch is a very important part of being alive. Even birds and monkeys spend time touching eachother. It seems the only species that don’t make a habit of touching eachother are Americans and Germans!
Give me a break.
So Americans and Germans are jerks and don’t touch the ones they love? And every one else in every other wonderful, loving, nation, showers each other with public displays of affection?
You are so full of BALONEY!
Mr. Wonderful and I always hold hands; even when we’re sleeping we reach for one another that way. It is the sweetest gesture, ever.
If you have someone to love, don’t ever, EVER take it for granted. :)
Vat can I say, ve are shtant-uffish.
Keeps her from slapping the crap out of ya.
Oh please, say to me, you’ll let me be your man, and please say to me, ‘I wanna hold your hand’!!!!
Indeed.
I have been married to the same wonderful woman (not always easy, but wonderful (like, sometime I really wonder)) for 35 years.
We were in Santa Barbara a few years ago and walking along the beach holding hands. This little old lady coming the other way noticed us and stopped us and offered a blessing to God on our behalf since we were holding hands and having a good time. I will always remember that moment. I like holding my wife's hand.
full of BALONEY—
Even a sandwich full of baloney touches lettuce, cheese, mustard, and mayonnaise.
(Showers with each other???)
I do not know where you come from or where you have been, but when I see my kids or wife after being apart, a big family hug is what we do.
I love my kids, I love my wife, and I have no problem showing it. And visa versa.
bttt
(sorry - with all of the Ebola posts out there, I couldn't help dragging it into this innocuous post that was sharing good advice)
Gaw dam right.
You touch me and I will kill you.
lovely.
Damn. Who hurt your feelings? Dude is right. We don’t show a lot of affection in public. So what?
I don’t hold your extreme views, but I am an ‘occasional’ hand holder
and that’s enough for me ... :)
kg/nancy
Nonsense. Here is lovely picture of Germans holding hands.
/sarc
My daughter just the other day asked me and my wife why we don’t hold hands! We have tried to make a point of doing so - and this article highlights some reasons.
I just dropped my son off to college (sophomore year). Christian school. It was odd to see his buddies rush up to him and give him a body-slam and hug. But they are a close-knit bunch of kids.
Mr GG2 holds my hand everywhere we go.
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