TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR HANDS

                   

 

Take a good look at your hands. They have so much to tell you about your relationship with life and with God.

 

Now, we all take our hands for granted but they are an amazing piece of machinery and a means of communication. One of our men was involved with a perogy supper to raise money to help Ukrainian refugees. He pointed out as he worked beside a Ukrainian baba ( Grandmother) who had lost the use of her right arm through a stroke. “She could make cabbage rolls with her left hand like nobody’s business. And I was struggling to roll the cabbage with two hands!”

 

Our hands are most significant when they are used for caring for another human being. They are truly blessed and give blessing through compassion for others.

 

Blessed are the open hands that help little ones pick themselves off the pavement when they have fallen off their bike. Blessed are the hands that dry tears from frightened eyes.

 

Blessed are the hands that reach beyond the barriers of culture, religion, nationality and economic classes. How wonderful the hands that move smoothly through these barriers that human beings have set up to divide themselves from one another. Where people have put up barriers (you shall not step over the barrier!), these hands move through these barriers in compassion and understanding. 

 

Blessed are the hands that help others and seek nothing in exchange. These are hands that love and share freely, with no expectations that the favour be returned.

 

Blessed are the hands that lift up a brother when he is down with drug addiction. These understanding hands know how black and discouraging it is to be caught in the trap of drug addiction. And these hands lift a very desperate brother up!

 

Blessed are the hands of a teenager assisting an elderly grandmother as she tries to walk to the breakfast table. What patience and gentleness in those hands!

 

Blessed are the hands that are preparing sandwiches for the homeless today. These hands may not see the hungry men and women coming to pick up a lunch but these hands butter the bread with understanding.

 

Blessed are the hands that hug the widow who has lost her husband of sixty-five years. No words. Just the assurance of care and understanding; just the hands of patience for the dark times of grief and loss.

 

Now sit in silence with open hands. How many times have your hands been a source of blessing? How many times have your hands been a touch of the goodness of God?