Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Grandma's Hands~





 I  look at my hands a lot. I am a hand person. I remember my Grandma's hand~it was beautiful. She only had one hand ~ she lost her right arm due to cancer when I was only five. She is walking on streets of gold this very morning. It was a beautiful hand  that could heal any sick being, it could work harder than any person I have ever known but it could love big!  My Mom's hands are long and slender. I remember when I was sick it always felt so cool on my forehead. She has slender pretty hands.  I remember what each of my babies hands looked like and how I would hold them and they would wrap their little hands around my fingers. And I will never forget the day I held my Boston's hands and I prayed that my little grandson would accept Jesus as his Saviour just as soon as he was old enough to understand and then little Olivia's hands so sweet and tiny. Hands say so much about our lives~enjoy this story about Grandma's hands. I truly believe there is nothing more beautiful than Grandma's hands! 



My Grandmother~
Grandma's HandAuthor Unknown 
Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.

When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," she said in a clear voice strong.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to her.

"Have you ever looked at your hands," she 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 she was making.

Grandma smiled and related this story:

"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life."

"They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon 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 held my husband and wiped my tears when he 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 son. Decorated with my 
wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special."

"They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse."

"They have held my children and grandchildren, 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 , these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer."

"These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. But more importantly, it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands, He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my Grandmas' hands and led her home.

When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of Grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the 
hands of God.

I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face. 


Proverbs 31

 1The words of king Lemuel, the prophecy that his mother taught him.
 2What, my son? and what, the son of my womb? and what, the son of my vows?
 3Give not thy strength unto women, nor thy ways to that which destroyeth kings.
 4It is not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink wine; nor for princes strong drink:
 5Lest they drink, and forget the law, and pervert the judgment of any of the afflicted.
 6Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts.
 7Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.
 8Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction.
 9Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy.
 10Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.
 11The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.
 12She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.
 13She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.
 14She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.
 15She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.
 16She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
 17She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.
 18She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.
 19She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.
 20She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
 21She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
 22She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
 23Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.
 24She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
 25Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.
 26She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
 27She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.
 28Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
 29Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
 30Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.
 31Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.

8 comments:

Merlin said...

Oh, what a sweet and very sentimental story! I have looked at my hands many times but now after reading this, I immediately think of my mother who died less than 2 months ago from ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease), and I look forward to the day when we all can touch each other's faces with our hands! I really miss my mother so much....

You are certainly blessed with the ability to write thought provoking articles and I enjoy reading them! Please keep on doing that! 8^)

Marmee's Pantry said...

Oh, I did enjoy that. I got that in an e-mail a while back, too. I, too, am a "hand person." I have my gr-ma & mother's long, slender fingers. Back when I used to model I did some hand modeling for jewelry companies, too.
I wrote a story about my "Daddy's Hands" that I had on my blog last year. You may enjoy it.

Blessings from Ohio...Kim<><
http://marmeespantry.blogspot.com/2010/03/daddys-hands.html

Mrs.C said...

Very beautiful! It's very thought provoking when we take time to note what others have done for us serving with their hands and their hearts full of love.

Tanya said...

What a neat story! I remember my Grandma's hands so well and loved to watch her cook with them. She also would sit and fold her hands and "roll" her thumbs. I've told my girls that and they said they notice I do that too! Is that funny!
Your grandma was such a beautiful woman. How special of you to write of her.
Are you ready for some more rain? Good grief, we need to get a boat! HA!
Blessings,
Tanya

Janis said...

Hard to read thru the tears...beautiful. As I look at my hands tonight as I do many nights I see my Mother's hands. Hands that tried so hard to love and serve in every area of her life. If only my hands can be like hers more and more each day.
God Bless the Hands of those that serve our LORD.
~Janis

My Bright Corner said...

I remember a pastor saying once about how he loved his mother's hands. [It must have been a Mother's Day sermon; I can't remember.] That thought stuck with me. We women DO use our hands a lot!!

Down On The Farm said...

This is precious. And so very very true. My hands have done many things. My hands have clung tightly, and my hands have shook in fear. My hands are strongest when they are lifted up to my Jesus. Blessings to you today my beautiful friend.

living from glory to glory said...

What a very sweet poem and as we all know how wonderful and special a Mothers hands are and now that we are grandmothers it seems richer all the more.
Blessings to you!
Keep in touch!
Hugs, Roxy

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