Holding His Hand

Holding His Hand
August 29, 2012

by Kimberly Okerman

I’m walking down the beach,

just Jesus and I.

We’re talking together;

we laugh and we cry.

 

 

I see two pairs of prints,

footprints in the sand.

I’m reaching up to Jesus;

I’m holding His hand.

 

Some think I am weird.

They watch as I walk by,

my hand in the air

as I laugh and I cry.

 

They don’t know who holds me.

They can’t see his hand.

They just see my outstretched arm,

but I know who’s on the sand.

I know that I’m with Jesus.

I don’t care that they don’t see.

I won’t let go of Jesus and

He won’t let go of me.

We're walking on the beach,

just us two, Him and me.

Though others don’t understand,

I hold His hand proudly.

I won’t let go of Jesus,

I won’t drop my hand.

I love walking beside Him,

walking in the sand.