JOSHUA TIME 381

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.>> >>> > When you receive this, say a prayer for the person who sent it to>>you>> > and watch God's answer to prayer work in your life. Let's continue>> > praying for one another .>> >>> > Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both.>> > Passing this on to one not considered a friend is something Christ>> > would do.>> >>> >Terri Ulrich, MSW, LISW