My Husband's Hands

My husband travels for work and can be gone quite often and sometimes quite long. And each time he comes home I am given the priviledge to be reminded of how tall he is, or how much I love his smile and how much I miss his boisterous laugh when he is away. This homecoming I was reminded of his hands. As we sat together catching up on the long week he was away his hand held mine. They are a bit rough, but strong and can encompass the whole of my hand. I have always liked the way his hands look. They look strong! And I thought to myself how much those hands have done in the 20 years we have been together. One moment those hands held our brand new baby girl, tenderly yet confidently as the tears rolled down his cheek. And in a blink of an eye, another baby girl, holding her gently so big sister could get a good look. And yet those same hands have grasped an M-16 as he dodges mortar shells. Those hands have held closed a wound received by a young man in a car accident. Those hands have built many things, yet torn other things to shreds. And then in another moment those hands are brushing the hair from my face as he looks at me saying hello after a long time apart. And those hands come together in prayer.
God truly did create man in His own image. God's hands do all this...hold a newborn baby, He builds, He brushes the hair from our faces to gaze at us and His hands can tear apart anything. Yet His hands encompass the whole world , and His hands carry us when we need Him. And His hands molded my husband into what he is today physically, spiritually...His hands work through my husband's hands, my hands, and my childrens' hands. Amazing!