The Power of Our Hands


Wikipedia says this about the hand:

The human hand has five fingers and 27 bones, not including the sesamoid bone, the number of which varies between people,[3] 14 of which are the phalanges (proximal, intermediate and distal) of the fingers. The metacarpal bones connect the fingers and the carpal bones of the wrist. Each human hand has five metacarpals[4] and eight carpal bones.

Besides this very detailed definition, our hands do and have so much value for us in this wonderful life.  When we are born, our mothers use their loving hands to feed us, bathe us and clothe us.  The hands of a mother work hard at cooking, cleaning and doing laundry and many, many mothers hands do all of this work along side a job outside the home.   Then there are the hands of our fathers, who work hard at many, many jobs.  Some have hard manual labor jobs, some have desk jobs and many have jobs where their hands get very dirty and some have clean hands.

We touch everything with our hands.  We touch ourselves, silverware, food, clothing, pens, pencils, phones the list goes on and on. So it is doesn’t surprise me that when there is something that we touch with our hands that comforts us it touches our hearts.

If you know me well, you know that I have 3 things in my life that I fear.  Imagine that Bold Michelle having 3 silly little fears!!!  While I know I these will not harm me and our Lord is always with me, I still carry the 3 fears.  These three things are a fear of small spaces, a fear of being in an elevator alone or not being able to get out and lastly which goes with the small spaces, shoulder to shoulder crowds.

Recently, I attended a show in an auditorium with my daughter and my niece.  When leaving the show, there was a large crowd streaming out of the auditorium.  When I am with Ron, my awesome husband, I always grab his hand always telling him “Holding your hand is always a safe place!”  But this night, Ron was not along, so out of habit, I grabbed my daughter Maria’s hand.

Her hand felt strong yet very soft. Her hand made me feel safe in that moment.  Yet while I felt this sense of safety,  My heart was so full of love and happiness.  I remembered in that moment the many times I held her hand when she was little.  How tiny and soft and here I was now holding her hand in her adulthood.

So it really doesn’t matter if you are a mother at 22 holding your child’s small hand or a mother at 56 holding your adult child’s hand or a daughter at 56 holding your mothers hand at 79.  You love them even more every time you hold their hand.

You know, I don’t even remember how crowded it was now…

It is the Power of Our Hands.





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