I depend on the work of my hands to feed my family. All day, my fingers tap the keyboard.
I use my hands for my hobby, looping yarn into warm pieces to wear or dishcloths to clean.
I struggle with my hands. Since breaking my hand in a motorcycle accident in my 20s, I’ve always felt the weather. Then I was diagnosed with arthritis in my hand in my 30s.
I serve as a deacon in our church. As I pass the brass trays of bread and juice, I see how many people struggle with their hands, too. The tray might be too heavy. The wafer of bread—as small as a fingernail—might be too small to grasp. The juice cup might be unmanageable for hands that shake.
As I see people struggle, I see others notice and respond. They see the need, respond to the need and show God’s love.
I pray that when my hands give out, I sit next to a true Christian: a person who sees the need and responds to the need, showing God’s love.
God bless your hands. May they do good for others when they are strong, and accept help from others when they are weak.