Whole Lotta Love Day 3

Good evening friends.  I hope all of you have had a great Sunday.  We enjoyed a great church service this morning and for that I am thankful.  We have truly had a good day. 

I am glad I decided to join in on the Whole Lotta Love posts.  I am looking forward to sharing my loves with you all.  Thanks Cindi.

Tonight, I want to share with you one of my loves.  It is hands. Sounds crazy huh?  No, I do not have a hand fetish or anything crazy, but I have a love for the hands that have touched my life.

I must say first that I am thankful for the hands of Jesus.

I am thankful that I am kept safely in these hands everyday. These hands guide me.  I am thankful that these hands were pierced on the cross so that I could forever be forgiven.  

My Nanny's hands.

This is the precious hands of my "nanny."  If only these hands could talk.  Oh the stories they would tell.  The things they have seen.  The sick ones they have helped.  The meals they have prepared.  The times they have been folded in prayer. These hands were the ones that took care of my mama.  These are the hands that cooked my favorite hash for me as a child.  I will never forget these hands raised to our Lord during a worship service at the nursing home not too long before she passed away.  I held this hand many times in the last few years.  For these hands I am thankful.

My mama's hands.

I can't say enough about these hands.  These hands rocked me as a baby.  They have taken care of me when I was sick.  They have played with me.  They have held my hand when I was scared.  Just a simple squeeze of her hand can be so comforting.  These hands have been folded in prayer for loved ones many times.  They have played the piano so many times when I would sit and listen to her sing.  They have been intertwined with my daddy's hands many times showing their love for each other.  They have taught me how to craft.  They have disciplined me. They hug.  They comfort.  I cherish these hands.

My daddy's hands.

Firm but gentle.  These are the hands of my daddy.  Nothing like a little girl placing her small hand into her daddy's.  I remember that as a child.  They seemed so big.  These hands tickled me until I lost my breath.  These hands built our home.  These hands planted our garden.  These hands led our church choir.  These hands worked to provide an income for our family.  These hands build.  These hands fix it all.  These hands love.

My husband's hands

The hands I held as butterflies danced in my tummy.  These hands that offered a pat on the back or a quick hug.   I held these hands nervously as I repeated our marriage vows and became his wife. These hands have hugged and comforted me many times.  These hands were the first hands my daughter's fingers wrapped around as soon as she was born.  These hands have wiped away my tears.  These hands work.  I still like to hold these hands after 10 years.

My daughter's hands

Nothing is more precious than the hands of my child.  I have felt these little hands wrap around mine while the same time wrapping around my heart.  Nothing makes my heart smile more than seeing these little hands folded in prayer to Jesus.  So innocent.  These hands are creative.  These hands  love to hug.  These hands draw me  pictures.  These hands love on me.  These hands like to tickle.  These hands explore.  These hands are precious.  

My aunt's hands

These hands like to cook.   These hands love on Darbee. These hands play the piano also.  These hands have seen trouble and happiness.  These hands have taken care of a sick husband.  These hands have seen struggles.  These hands work.  These hands love.  These hands care.

My own hands.

My hands were forever changed when they were intertwined with those of my child.  I only hope one day my hands can tell a story that these hands listed before me can tell.  These hands are full of love.  For hands I am thankful.

Until next time.....