Four Generations of Women - Grandma's Hands

Many of you have probably seen an equivalent to this email going around. My Grandma is very special to me and Alexandra is also fond of her even though she no longer talks or engages.

At Christmas I had Natalie take a picture of my hand, Alex's, my mom's and my grandma's. I changed the wording a bit to apply and have matted and framed it. My grandma is no longer the same as she is in a nursing home with alzheimers. Just one of the projects I have been working on - and wanted to share. I hope you enjoy it!

GRANDMA'S HANDS

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 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 have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn. Decorated with my wedding band and showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.

They have held my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.

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 life.

But most 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.