Tuesday, July 20, 2010

THE HANDS

For a number of days, I have been contemplating how important our hands are. My mental and written lists have grown endlessly. I realize I could write a thesis on their significance. Just as I wrote that last sentence, another use of them came to my mind, as I scratched a bug bite!

We can join our hands together for many different reasons. I put them together in the form of prayer often, extending outward toward the heavens. I do it in formal prayer and constantly to say another thank you to God for one blessing after another He bestows upon me.

There is also the pressing of the palms together, fingers squeezing opposite hands. Anxiety is expressed. It might be watching the race, excited to see who will win. Maybe it is while watching a movie, the unpredictability hardly able to take. There can be the squeezing of the hands in tenseness, not knowing what the recent medical tests will foretell.

While in the dental chair, I’m sure the dentist looks down at the hands, to see if the patient is handling the procedure with a sense of calmness or one of being quite nervous. I have willed myself, through prayer, to appear quite calm for the dentist. In reality, my fear begins as soon as I hear him or her sit down on that stool on wheels behind me, in the dental chair, rolling up to be by my side.

There are the hands of a brand new baby, so very tiny. There is not a mark on them, so fresh and new. We study those hands, wondering how they will be used in the newborn’s lifetime. The first thing we tend to do is reach out our hands to those wee fingers, watching the grasping of them being wrapped around ours. What joy this brings! A connection is made, a feeling of a warm love being shared between two of God’s souls.

The infant grows into a little being. We hold onto the child’s hand, to protect him or her from fear, or while crossing the street. We put band-aids on those tiny scratches, hands busy at work while at play.

It is a blissful moment as the toddler reaches out for our hand, taking us to see an amazing sunset, the fruit in the garden, or to smell a flower. We can get busy rushing through each day, only to have a child remind us what really counts, as we live and breathe the air of the Holy Spirit.

As the individual grows, food and shelter are necessary for survival. Those hands nurture crops to raise an abundant harvest. . It is shared with others. .A created shelter, made by the hands of many, gives a place to live, bringing friends and family together.

As friends and family gather, there is the greeting through a handshake, placing the hands and arms around one another in a hug, and the holding of hands while sharing a blessing of the meal. After the meal, there continues to be sharing, during board or electronic games, all needing the hands.

Noticing the hands of all who gather, there can be seen hands showing life has not been easy. They are rough to feel and have a look of leather. Others may be soft to touch, but hold deep lines of wisdom There will be the teen, whose body has not yet grown into his or her hands. In time, they will show the signs of experience, just as those who have made it through those struggling years.

We see the hands of honesty as a promise is taken. It may be a creed for an organization, or while taking an oath of office. A hand usually goes up to express what is being said is the truth. Those same hands are raised to give out blessings to our brethren.

Gifted hands provide enjoyment for others, through the many art forms, whether it is music, calligraphy, something on canvas, or dance. The given talents can take our breath away, letting us forget about everything else in life except for the moment.

To join hands in marriage, becoming one, is beautiful. The unity of hands will bring forth many memories in the years to come.

Last night, a story was shared of the mother who saw only a wounded soldier’s hands, seen on the national news. The moment she saw those hands, she knew they belonged to her son, as only a mother would. She made the proper phone calls to ask about him. Soon, there was a knock at her front door to acknowledge it was indeed her son; he had passed away while fighting for our freedom.

God holds us up with His hands. His son died with his hands raised, on the cross. He holds up everyone, at all times, not allowing anyone to hold burdens alone. His mother holds us in her gentle hands, never judging, only giving unconditional love. We only have to open up our hearts to receive the affections of the Holy Family.

Let all of us raise our hands in prayer, for those hurting, those needing a blessing, the joys and the struggles, and in thanks, feeling the eternal love and blessings given to each of us.

Marie T. Morrison
July 20, 2010