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…
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