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Grandpa’s hands

Hello God, it’s me, Mara:

Just sharing about a Grandpa, Lord:

Grandpa was ninety years old, sitting feebly on the patio bench. He didn’t move, he just sat there with his head down, staring at his hands. Granddaughter, Alexa, sat down beside him. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, making Alexia wonder if he was OK. Finally, not wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, she asked him if he was OK.

He raised his head and looked at her, smiled and said, “Yes, I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, Grandpa”, she said, “but you were just staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure that you were OK.”

“Have you ever looked at your hands”, Grandpa asked, “I mean really looked at them?”

Alexa slowly opened her hands, staring down at them. She turned them over, palms up and then palms down. “No, I guess I’ve never paid any attention to my hands,” she said.

Grandpa smiled and said, “Stop and think for a moment about your hands, how they’ve served you well throughout your years. My hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak, have been tools I’ve used all my life to reach out, grab and embrace life. They’ve put food in my mouth, clothes on my back and as a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They’ve been dirty, scraped, raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn daughter – your mom. Decorated with my wedding band, they showed the world that I was married and loved someone very special. They trembled and shook when I buried my parents, and spouse and walked my daughter down the aisle. They covered my face, combed my hair, washed and cleaned the rest of my body. They’ve been sticky, wet, bent, broken, dried and raw. And to this day, when not much of anything else works real well, 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 my life. But more importantly, it will be these hands that God will reach out and take, when HE leads me home.”

Love, Mara

 

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