“And when He had said this, He showed them His hands and His feet.” Luke 24:40

His Hands

Walk His Way Revisited

I have the look of my mother’s hands. My fingers are slender and long, and age spots are beginning to show. Her hands played duets on the piano with me when I was a youth taking lessons; we laughed and giggled like schoolgirls. Her hands brushed my hair in the evenings as I sat on the floor in front of her. Her hands cured boo-boos, removed splinters, mixed Kool-Aid on a summer day, and beat cake batter until smooth. Her hands made a soufflé when I was a little child so I could proudly walk with my teacher, holding her hand, down the street to my home at lunch. She is an artist, too, seeing the unseen, painting with oils and pastels and watercolors. To me, her hands could do everything, which made her a wonder to me. Her hands showed me her love.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the hands of Jesus. I can almost picture them: calloused from His years of holding the tools of a carpenter; capable, strong, and willing; and by the time His ministry begins at about age 30, His hands are shown to be tender, caring, and healing. His hands held children. His hands lifted bread to the heavens when He gave thanks. His hands cured illness and disability with a touch, bringing comfort and peace. His hands stretched out to people and to nature alike, restoring everything. In the beginning, His hands created the heavens and the earth; and in the end, His right hand will hold the seven stars.

His hands hammered nails into wood in His early days; at the end, nails were hammered into His hands on the wooden cross. Jesus showed us His love with His hands.

I want to show my love for others with my hands. May my hands be hands that serve food. Hands that caress the dying, soothe the grieving, lift the face of those who are downcast. Hands that point the way back, the way forward, the way out. May my hands hold hands.

Jesus, Your hands have held me so many times, I’ve lost count. Your hands have never let me go. Your hands have my name engraved on them. You hold me in the palm of Your hand, and in that hiding place I am safe. May my hands be like Yours while I am still on this earth, doing good, bringing comfort, and giving to the poor. In Your own powerful Name I pray, Amen.