You have not danced so badly, my dear, trying to hold hands with the Beautiful One. You have waltzed with great style, my sweet, crushed angel, to have ever neared God's heart at all. ~ Hafiz
There is something so simple and yet so extraordinary about hands, coming together. I find the manner in which fingers interlock and the skin of one warms the other irresistible. Hands of lovers, sweetness sharing; hands of children, joyfully swinging back and forth; hands of healers, radiating rays of light; hands of strangers, meeting in a welcoming hold are all quite exquisite, but I am especially fond of large hands for the firm strength and secure confidence they offer.
Still, no hands are as powerful as God's hands. These are the hands of love, encircling the world with the blessed sounds of celestial harps, playing on the wind in the middle of the dark of night, bringing a promise of hope when all else seems lost. Within the calm of such quiet comfort, we have the singular chance to leap from the edge of the highest mountaintop, freefalling in midair, knowing full well that we will be caught by the ever waiting hands of Grace. How lucky are we, who recognize the infinite majesty hidden in the jewel of absolute trust.