Hands

The other morning I looked over at my little 2 yo red-headed monkey’s hands. (She’d decided to climb in bed with us around 6:00 am.) I remembered back to how tiny they were when she was born and notice how small and pudgy they are even though they are much bigger than they were. Then I thought about my little man’s hands. At 8 years old they are good sized hands, he’s always had larger hands. They were so cute and chubby when he was a toddler. The princess had dainty little 5 yo princess hands, just perfect in every princess way. Then I thought about my husbands strong hands and how handsome he is when I see that ring on his finger that says he is mine to the whole world. I thought about my hands and how daily they remind me more and more of my mothers. However, her fingers have always seemed so long and graceful (mine- not so long). I loved looking at her rings as a child. My father his hands are large and thick and it has always amazed me at how smoothly and beautifully they play the piano. Then I thought back to the hands of my grand parents. My Grandma Dr. had arthritis and her knuckles were always big, but that didn’t stop her from doing much. I can see her working in the kitchen and in the garden. My Grandpa Dr.’s hand were long and strong and I know it sounds weird but I remember them opening his medicine bottles at the kitchen table. My Papa’s hands always seemed to have long nails and were stained from years of smoking, but also years of gardening and hard work. My Grannie her hands I see this past summer aged and beautiful helping me prepare peaches for freezing. All of these hands have affected and changed my life. They have helped me grow and helped me love. Who could imagine 2 small things at the end of our arms could do so much. I would not be who I am today with out all of theses hands. But there a bigger hands. Hands that hold the whole world. Hands that reach down from the Heavens and hold little ole’ me. Hands that carry me when I can’t walk on my own. Hands that love me when I am broken. Hands that clap and applaud with my accomplishments. Hands that saw the hands of His own son nailed to a cross just for me, so that I could experience my life and all the hands in it. God’s hands are beyond description. They are all encompassing, all knowing, and all loving. My life is safe in His hands and so is yours. Reach out they are there, just watching and waiting for you.

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