Good Guidance from a Great Grandma#

Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat in quietness on the porch bench. She didn't move, just sat.

Her lowered head gazed at her hands.

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

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check, I questioned if she was well. Her tired head raised, looked at me and smiled: 

'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she responded in a still clear, strong voice.

'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she continued, 'I mean really looked at your hands?'

Slowly I opened my hands and too stared down. I flipped them over, palms up then palms down. I guess I had never considered my hands. I puzzled to understand the point she was making.

Grandma smiled and told her 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, shrivelled and weak have been the tools I have used all my days to reach out, grab and lay hold of 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 my hands in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.

Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.

They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.

They wrote my letters to him and trembled when I buried my parents and then soon him.

They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. These hands were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. 

They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and even shook fists of anger when I didn't understand.

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.

But most importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out to and take when He calls me home; with these hands He will lift me to His side, then I will use them to touch the face of God.

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's 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.#

My heart says of you, ‘Seek His face! Your face, Lord, I will seek. (Psalm 27:8)

Today's Soul Snippet:

Devotion is distraction destruction.

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# Today's SoulSnack is anonymous with some SoulSupply edits.