A post came up on my Timehop app today from back in 2015. I was still driving my daughter to school at that time and she would have been in the 7th grade. That morning, she touched my hand and commented on how my veins stand out. I explained to her that is what happens when you get older. Your hands seem to always give away your age. She stroked the top of my hand again and said tenderly, “well mom, I like the way it looks.”
Interesting that my immediate thought was something negative about myself. In fact, my response back to her was obviously an attempt to lighten some harsh blow that was inevitably about to come from her observation. Yet instead, she was observing something that she noticed and liked about me, unprompted and uninhibited. I remember thinking that day about my own mother’s hands. I also have a fondness for her hands. I always liked the way her hands look. I wonder if my hands look like my mom’s hands? Then, I thought about the tender touch and comfort that can come from the loving hands of a mom. A mother’s hands wipe away tears, caress faces, gently rub and comfort burdened backs, and firmly grasp their children’s hands perfectly.
I also remember wishing that I could see myself through my daughter’s eyes that day or maybe even my mother’s eyes. Better yet, maybe I could see myself through my Father’s eyes each day, remembering fulfilled promises He has given me in both my own mom and daughter. Maybe this week, I will look around at the many hands around me. Who needs their hands held in prayer? Who needs a loving squeeze of reassurance? Who needs a hand to hold when the going gets tough? Who needs a meal prepared and delivered? Who needs a tear wiped from their cheek?
Father, help me be aware of opportunities to be Your Hands this week. Thank you for my mom, my daughter and these old hands made in your image. Help me use my hands wisely and boldly. And thank you for the hands that Jesus stretched out on the cross to save us all.
“And Mary said: ‘My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.’” Luke 1:46-48 NIV
3 thoughts on “Hands…”
You’ve written this perfectly. Wow. I am completely in awe. You were able to express your emotions through your honest style of writing. Keep writing great stuff like this. This is inspiring and remarkable. Truly! By the way, I am Ragazza, I hope you could follow my blog page, maybe you’ll get inspired too. 😊
It’s so funny that you’re writing is about hands today, just last night I noted that my hands have become my Mothers hands complete with age spots and I wonder if my hands had brought the comfort, reassurance and love as my Mom’s did. Thank you for the reminder of how much love is in “those” hands. Love you
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That is so cool and just like God! I love you and your hands mom. And I loved my Grandma Hart’s hands so much!