Grandpa's Hands
....This is good...I'll never look at my hands the same!
Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't
move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down
beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I
wondered if he was OK.
Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at
the same time, I asked him if he was OK. 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.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here
staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained
to him.
"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.
Grandpa 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 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 son. Decorated
with my wedding band 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 Spouse and walked my Daughter down the aisle.
Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and
lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot. 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, 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. 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 Grandpa's hands and led him home. When my hands are hurt
or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and wife I think of
Grandpa. I know he 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.
New Flight Simulators
The new flight simulators are
incredible. Not only are the controls, gauges and layout total accurate in
every detail but the "view" is astounding. The flight experience is so
real these days, you can get into the "plane" fly hour after hour under
realistic flight conditions and land at any major airport in the world,
even difficult landings like Hong Kong.
Then after this incredible ride, showing just what it is like to fly, you
get out of the simulator and find yourself back in the warehouse having
gone nowhere!!
How often are our hearts stirred by truth as we hear it preached and we
feel we can really fly............only for Monday morning at work to find
us back in the warehouse and feeling thoroughly grounded!!
It's not how it is meant to be.....................we really are meant to
mount up on eagles wings
NickM from the
philippians3.godofgrace
Forum
There is one
hope for me.
My husband thinks I am hopeless,
and my kids think I am hopeless and my parents think I am hopeless, though
they all love me anyways. I am a happy loveable hopeless person!
As a matter of fact, I think I am
hopeless if it requires that I have to hope in myself. But thanks to the
Grace of God I don't!
My only hope is the all-sufficiency
of God and that is a LIVELY hope! He is more than enough! And He is more
than willing to abundantly share it! What a deal!
Jackie
What's
in a good soup? Love, laughter, good friends!
Entree
HomeMade
