Two Hands

Have you ever gone to the bathroom in an airplane lavatory? I have. I had an interesting experience in one here recently.
I had just finished up (#2) and I was attempting to take some toilet paper off of the role. Unfortunately the roll was so full that it was not unrolling easily. After a few minutes of tearing off a tiny piece of tp (it kept tearing off everytime I tried to unroll it) and bashing my elbow up against the side of the lavatory wall several times and after much groaning I finally figured out what my problem was. I needed to use both hands. I joyfully discovered that if my left hand rolled the tp and my right hand pulled that I could unroll up to six sheets of tp before it would rip (a personal airplane lavitory record). It was fun, I guess. It was certainly exciting to me.
I realized after I washed my hands and went back to my seat and held Kim's hand that there are times in life when we need two hands. Not necessarily our own two hands. Kim and I had received some "rough" news about "baby angus" (our baby due in April) and we were both having a difficult time getting through the day.
We needed each other's hands. Hands that offered comfort, encouragement, protection and hope. It was then, sitting in my seat holding Kim, that I realized how important community is. Talking with our family, church family, and friends was encouraging to us. They offered hope, prayer, and the presence of true love (God) when we needed it most. We needed another hand to be there with us and help us "wade through the crap," if you will. Sometimes we need two hands.