I Know The Hand of Whom I Hold.

7:16 PM

The sun showed through dirty window panes. Light reflecting off her eyes. Quiet yet still alive. She reached for mine and I for hers. I held her hand in that quiet moment. Nothing was said with words from these lips, just an exchange of love through glassy eyes and a gentle touch.


As she reached for my hand, I somehow new this would be the first and last time she reached for mine.  I was ALWAYS the one reaching for Hers. Her hand had held mine many times in the past.  With each grasp, and with her touch in those moments, I would experience a peace.  I knew the hand of whom I held.  Her hands were gentle in touch and strong in grasp.  She had an inner strength like none I had ever seen with these young eyes.


Her hands, were not only hands of creativity, she would use to craft quilts, afghans, and doilies.  Her hands would be the hands of the Lord used to craft our lives, my life.  Treasures hand made to display in her home warmed our hearts and bodies on cold winter nights.  They were hands bringing healing, strength, and grace to all who came into her life, her home.  She used her hands to craft in me a heart for motherhood, the Lord, for family, and a heart that beats for the invaluable items in life.
  

I KNOW the hand of whom I hold.  While I would hold her hands in my darkest times, they were not just her hands holding me they were HIS.  I knew from an early age the HAND of whom I held and who HELD me.  HE crafts us, through the lives of others.  HE warms others through our hands.  He STRENGTHENS us through HIS hand on other's lives.


HE would use these frail hands to bring strength, correction, love, support, and to wipe tears from my eyes.  This time, she reached for mine.  In this moment, she knew the hand of whom she held.  HIS spirit in me, His spirit that redeems, was holding her hand this time.  She looked to me, to HIM, and peace was found.  


Assuring her we would be ok, thanking her for all of her sacrifice, love, care, prayers, I kissed her knowing this would be my last.  Looking to me, HIS eyes she saw, I know as she looked past me with glassy eyes she saw Immanuel.  I through HIS spirit was able to bring warmth to her heart.  Peace to her wandering mind, and confidence that she was not ALONE, we are NEVER alone.  For we know the HAND of whom we hold, and HE holds us.  He is Immanuel, God with us.  REDEEMING us, HE brought HOPE and confidence.  Even when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil.  We the REDEEMED have this assurance, confidence that death is just a shadow, a passing of glories, leaving one glory to enter into HIS glory FOREVER.  As she passes, I am thankful that she used her hands to hold mine and lead me to HIS. 




For the first time in my life I have had the HONOR of holding her hand in time of pain, and weakness.  Even in her frailty, SHE is BRAVE, with every breath she took, her wandering eyes looked to HIM and I held her hand and now she will HOLD HIS.  Thank you for knowing the HAND of whom you held all these years and leading me to HIM all the days of your life.  Your life, your grip, your touch has led me to Him and you are why I met my REDEEMER and now KNOW the Hand of whom I hold. 

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