Good morning, men!
Wednesday night, Derek was helping his mom with laundry and I put my youngest son, Jase, to bed by himself. We laid down to say prayers, and he grabbed my hand to hold it. He picked my hand up and said, “DANG DAD! YOUR HANDS ARE HUGE!” He was measuring his own hands to mine in length and width.
The funny thing about this story, for those who don’t know me, is the fact that I am 5’10”. I wear a size large glove, which is slightly bigger than my stature, but my hands are far from huge. The moment was so sweet and innocent, even though he was comically wrong, I wanted to bottle it forever.
Two things came to mind:
1. You never know until moments like these just how “big” you are to your small kids. They look to us as larger than life figures. What a great opportunity to point them towards Jesus while they still listen to us!
2. I had a moment where I was a tad jealous of Jase’s brain. He looked at my hands, was in awe of their size and power, and knew he was much smaller and weaker. Why in the world at 37 do I struggle with seeing God the same way at times?
As my family enters a period of tumult and major decision making, may I view God’s hands and their power the same way my son does mine.
Have a blessed day, men!
M.I.T.T. ~ Runyan
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