Hold my hand.

I love the way you make love a verb.

Not a showy display of flowers, an extravagant gift or a spluttery rain of words. But a thoughtful letter, an encouraging prayer, a loving hand squeeze.

I love the way you take the lead. Not to assert your dominance, or bend my will, or put me in my place. But I love the way you take the initiative always- to lead bible study, sign up for the (gasp!) marriage preparation course, or write to my loved ones for permission to see me.

But most of all, I love the way you hold my hand. The way your hands always finds mine and keeps them warm. The way mine get lost in yours.

Because it represents your leadership, security and love.

“… nobody, not even the rain,

has such small hands.”

– somewhere I have never travelled,

by e.e.cummings