When I was a little girl, I used to watch the married couples sitting in the church pews in front of me. Sometimes he would have his arm around her shoulders. She would lean into him. They would share a hymnal. There was something so safe and protective about that image. I remember thinking, That’s what it means to be in love. Holding hands in church.
To be perfectly honest on a typical Sunday, about 75% of my attention is on the sermon and the other 25% is mostly on Kyle’s hand covering mine. I don’t know that there is a place or time in the universe where I feel safer than on Sunday morning, my hand in Kyle’s, both of us tucked securely inside the hands of God.