YOUR HANDS

Your hands: the ones that look like cigars

Your hands: The ones that I can size my hand against your three fingers

Your hands are the hands that held me as a baby

The hands that bathed me as a child

The hands that taught me to walk

The hands that taught me how to swim, bike, and throw a football and turn the pages in my Bible… (You know to get the whole context). Those same hands are the only hands I want to hold.

Your body may be fighting to get back to normal but when I see your hands, I see my Dad.

I see your strength.

I see your courage.

I see your faithfulness.

When I look at your hands, I remember you using them as illustrations, presenting the Gospel.

When I look at your hands, I remember you helping others in need. Wrapping…