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
Thank you! So far, so good. Three years in. Taking it s-l-o-w. :)
LOL!
I’ve heard about such things happening. I think it’s terrific, and I’m very happy for you.
” It seems the only species that don’t make a habit of touching eachother are Americans and Germans!”
Seems you don’t pay attention...or just hate Americans and Germans. Sounds a bit liberal of you.
LOL! He should be buying you anything your heart desires! :)
Thank you for your support, D! I think of you whenever I’m on the Weekly Garden Thread which Greeney manages so beautifully.
I’ll check in tomorrow! :)
Sounds like you need someone to hold your hand.... j/k
My wife and I have always held hands. If we’re not holding hands, one of us is upset. It’s important to show that bond publicly and especially in front of your children. Children should grow up seeing their parents in love and not afraid to express it. There’s an old country tear-jerker of a song where the singer lists the things he should have done, but didn’t before he lost his wife. It’s the small things like holding hands that matter.
My wife's very pro-active about holding hands, especially when she thinks I've got a dead President (or two) in my hand. lol...j/k
I do to. She’s the first name on the list I inherited.LOL
Thanks for the compliment.
Lighten up Francis. Seems liberal of you to assume hate for statements made in jest.
Way to assume that’s ‘exactly’ what I meant. That or you are gifted with amazing mind reading abilities.
What amazing mind reading powers you have insisting I said Americans are unloving jerks when I made no such claim. Amazing that you knew exactly what I was saying and claiming I was the perfect man. Amazing you can tell all freepers in the thread the contents of my mind. Please make other assumptions to my inner most thoughts since you can perfectly read my mind and know exactly what I think. Or are you just jumping to conclusions?
Yepper - hold my wife’s hand whenever we are walking together (except for exercise walking where we need the extra space) and still open every door I can for her. She’s 65 and I’m 62 and married for 22+ years (both started with the wrong mates before God put us together - some religions say that makes us vile sinners, we call ourselves happily married).
Didn’t sound like jest to me, so maybe you should lighten up on your nasty comments. You aren’t as cute and funny as you think.
You can look at my FR homepage and see why I am bumping this thread.
LoL
Well said, Diana!
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