With the soon arrival of Thanksgiving Day, I remembered a story titled “Grandpa’s Hands” that I had filed away some years ago. I share it with you with the hope and prayer that it causes you to reflect on your own hands, and in turn give praise and thanksgiving toward God.
GRANDPA’S HANDS (Author Unknown)
Grandpa, some ninety plus years old, sat feebly on the patio bench 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, 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,” I said as I tried to figure out the point he was making.
Grandpa smiled and related this story to me:
“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 dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. 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 my wife, and walked my daughter down the aisle on her wedding day.
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 really 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.”
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This story causes deep emotions of both thankfulness and regret to stir up within me each time I read it. This story reminds me to look at my hands and think of them as gifts from our God; gifts that can be used either as tools or as weapons.
Yes, with these two hands I can bless people or bruise them; I can gently heal the person next to me or I can brutally hurt them. With these two hands I can generously share what I have with others or I can greedily steal from them; and I can open them in caring compassion for others or clench them in protecting my stuff.
I pray the story also reminds you to look at your hands and think about how you have used them. It is the decision we make many times every day. It is the decision that begins in the heart and informs the mind to how we will use our hands. It is the decision I suggest we ponder each morning as we begin the new day. How will I use my hands today?
Listen to these words from Alexander Irvine’s novel, My Lady of the Chimney Corner.
God takes a hand whenever he can find it,
and just does what he likes with it.
Sometimes he takes a bishop’s hand
and lays it on a child’s head in benediction.
And then he takes the hand of a doctor to relieve the pain,
the hand of a mother to guide a child.
And sometimes he takes the hand of a poor old creature like me
to give comfort to a neighbor.
But they’re all hands touched by his spirit,
and his spirit’s everywhere lookin’ for hands to use.
Will you join me in thanking God for our hands and in deciding each morning to use our hands in being God’s helpers and healers toward making our neighborhoods a better place of love, joy, peace, and happiness for ALL.
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“Healing Rays of Righteousness” – November 11, 2020
Ray M. Geigley
Healing Rays of Righteousness 
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