Chubby Little Fingers

Everytime my daughter grabs onto my hand, I marvel at the wonder of her chubby little fingers.

I love how they grip mine. The game we play as she squeezes my hand three times to say "I. love. you." without words. The trust that they represent as she looks to me to guide her through the risky parking lot at Kohls. 

What is it about chubby little fingers?  Is it their soft skin wrapping?  Or the preciousness of their smallness?  You have to admit that there is something of the tender glory of God that cannot help but be displayed in such small perfection that is a child's hand.  Is it the realization of the potential that such little hands might hold?  Or is it the innocence of what they have not yet touched mixed with the playfulness of what they have?  Maybe it's just the wonder of knowing that these chubby little hands belong to a real, albeit little, person.  In them is a picture of the miracle of life.  The amazing reality that this little human being which started inside of me is somehow real and growing and loving and true.

I wonder if that's how God feels when I grasp for His hand while He walks me through the unsafe parking lot that is this life.  Do I have chubby little fingers?  Do my hands make Him smile?  Does He marvel in the preciousness that my small hands represent?  Does He see the potential that my small hands hold?  Does He savor our game as He feels my heart squeeze His hand three times.  "I. love. You."  Does He want to play it more often?

Oh, to live in the trust of holding on with my own chubby little fingers.

My new Tuesday challenge as of late is to find the beautiful in the ordinary. To learn to be thankful for what I am given when it is given. Because of this awesome blog called chattingatthesky.com, where a beautiful blogger named Emily hosts Tuesdays Unwrapped.