I pray over these little hands every day. Both Kirsten and Logan’s. But tonight Kirsten’s hands caught my lingers and I can’t help but think about what’s ahead for them. These hands will experience moments of joy so grand they will clap together, and they will wipe away tears during moments of bitter sorrow; they will express frustration with clenched fists and they will hold her daddy’s hands during a father/daughter dance. They will clasp together in prayer, get scuffed during tumbles, find mine during snuggly moments and someday, maybe, be used to give herself shots, or greet her child for the first time. I’m overwhelmed by all the moments these hands will encounter. And as I pray, I also pray there are many things these hands never experience as well. And my heart aches to protect her from harm or hurt, and I find so much comfort knowing that Jesus knows the story of these hands already. He knows and He loves her even more than I do, which seems impossible. I’ve memorized her tiny knuckle dimples and I nibble her fingers with glee, and I am overwhelmed with love. Yet He loves her more. He created these hands. They are His masterpiece.
And I don’t have any ultra-wise words here. I wish I did. I’m just carrying the weight of knowing I’m not in control and daily am in the process of building my trust in the One who knows and writes our stories. Kirsten’s story. Logan’s story. And so, each day I’ll pray. I’ll pray He guides these hands into good, wise, and joyful moments. That they want to be His hands on this earth. And that He brings them comfort in the hard moments. And I’ll remember that just as He loves my babies, He loves me just as much. Oh my heart is so tender. I’m so thankful we have a God who cares so much about us, about every last detail, and sticks with us as we learn to trust Him.
Look at your own hands. What they have been through. Think about how your parents may have prayed over them when you were a child. Take in the significance of what your hands partake in on a daily basis. Lift those hands to Your Father and join me in asking Him to bless our hands and help us to become more aware of their power. Their power as they type words of either encouragement or meanness, as they prepare food, shake hands, clasp together with a loved one, brush a child’s hair. Use your hands to make a difference. Our hands have so much potential.
My dear children, I love your little hands.