My Hands

I sat one day and caught a glimpse of my hands. For some reason my mind lingered on the look of them and their origin. I thought about my parents. The inside of my hands look like my mothers... soft yet determined... I remembered the way she ran her fingers through my hair as a child and again as I delivered Kevin... so comforting. I can picture her hands as she arranges flowers or fiddles with beads. She has perfect nails and pretty, slim fingers. I remember when she scolded me in jest or in earnest and held me at my first broken heart. Looking at the inside of my hands I hear her words echo the day she spoke to me just before my wedding, "...always be sweet..." I remember days I would stroll into the flower shop she worked in when we lived in Seattle and see her working so hard. Then she'd come home and cook dinner and do whatever else she did at the time... I'm sorry I didn't notice those things enough to be as grateful as I am now.

The outside of my hands look much like my Dad's. The way the skin wrinkles in the same places, the formation of my nails. I remember studying his hands as he worked on cars we had or installed shelving or washed the dishes. I remember him holding me as a child, rocking as he read the paper. I can picture his wedding ring... I remember splitting wood with him, packing the car for road trips. I can picture his hand on the wheel, his thumb tapping to the music. I love watching him lead singing, seeing his hands hold the song book... or walking into his office and seeing him finger through his bible. I remember when we were crossing a busy street. We thought we had enough time but when he saw that I wasn't beside hime, he swiftly grabbed me and saved my life. His hands caught me when I slipped on rocks at Deception Pass. They catch me now when my heart slips and I need his hands to hold me.

I have felt overwhelmingly grateful for my parents in the recent months. That's not to say that I've just now begun to feel grateful, I believe I told my mom she was right about everything several years ago... but lately I've been thinking a lot and they keep coming up in my mind. Now they are coming up on 32 years of marriage. That's pretty impressive to me.

So as I looked at my hands the other day I prayed that the Lord would forgive me of the unkind things I think and do to guide me on the right path and help me to be soft yet determined, strong and faithful.