Your Hands..!

By Robert Clements. Dated: 6/13/2019 1:26:53 AM

An old man sat on a bench at the park, just staring at his hands, “Have you hurt them?” I asked, “Are you okay?”
He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice.
"Have you ever looked at your hands?" he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?" I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.
Then he smiled and said, "Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how have they served you all your years? I was looking at mine, so wrinkled, shriveled and weak but have been the tools I’ve used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.
They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed to the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn child.
Decorated with my wedding ring they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and walked my daughter down the aisle.
They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down. My hands are the mark of where I've been; the ruggedness of my life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. I was quiet as he glanced at me. I left the park that day but will never forget those words he spoke.
Look at your hands my friend; are they hands that you've kept clean or are they ones you are ashamed for all the wrong they've done?
Here's a thought for you: They can still be folded in prayer and a God above will still reach down and with His own hands draw you up, if you ask His forgiveness..!
bobsbanter@gmail.com

 

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