Tiny hands..Touches of heaven...

"She has piano hands!"  Those were the words my "Granddaddy" spoke when he first saw me. I had very dark skin, curly black hair and was very small...barely over six pounds.  Granddaddy's first observation was not about my hair or skin or the tiny baby girl lying in the bassinet.  Instead, he noticed my hands..."piano hands"...as he often called them.

I'm not sure why that was Granddaddy's first response.  Perhaps it was because his sister played piano. My Dad's mother played piano...even as background music for silent movies.  My Mom's mother also played piano.  Granddaddy frequently reminded me.  "You have large hands and long fingers," he said. "Those are piano hands!"

Ironically, around age three, I literally climbed up the piano bench at home and began playing my first classical piece.  Well, it was actually "Jesus Loves Me" but only in my imagination was it close to something Bach, Beethoven or Brahms would have written. My very patient parents and church family endured much as I continued playing piano while I lived in their house and community.

Someone else's hands were much more important than my hands.  Someone else's hands served great purpose, life changing purpose, in ways only His Father could know. Someone else's hands literally touched countless lives in beautiful, miraculous, grueling, excruciating and eternal ways.

I often wonder.  What did God think and feel as He looked upon the hands of His only Son?  Only God knew the details of what His Son's hands would do when He arrived as a newborn Baby.  Only God knew the way His Son would hold the scrolls in the Temple as a young man.  Only God knew the way His Son would hold a hammer and saw as a carpenter...building, creating, renewing and transforming.  Only God knew the miracles His Son would perform as blind eyes would see, deaf ears would hear, diseased bodies would heal and dead bodies would arise.  Only God knew what His Son's hands would eventually endure...on a cross...bearing the weight of the sins of the world.  Only God knew that His Son's hands would  build, create, restore, renew, transform and save...lives...forever.

I also wonder.  How does God view our hands daily?  Does He see us reaching out to others?  Does He see us sharing, caring, working, worshiping, holding, helping and touching lives...in His name?  We may think that our hands are ordinary...imperfect...shaky...weak...or insignificant.  Yet we are created with hands, hearts and lives we can use for Him.

It was on an ordinary night...through ordinary people...that an extraordinary God...touched lives forever.  Tiny hands were touches from Heaven.  These would become the hands of love, life and light. He is the One Whose hands calm the sea, hold us close and lead us Home...to Him. I am amazed.  I am grateful.  I am never alone. I am held in His loving, nail-scarred hands.<3~thl  

Never alone...

Mary...could not have done it alone.  Joseph...could not have faced it alone.  The amazing, beautiful story of Christ's birth is full of simple people who were asked to trust God's plan.  They were never alone.  I am learning more and more each day, especially recently, that there is much about this life journey that I can not face alone.  It's challenging.  It's heartbreaking.  It's painful.  It's uncertain.  More than ever before, I need to remember that I am not alone.  The same God Who hung the moon, put the stars in place, caused the sun to shine and sent His Son to this earth...is with me.  He is with those I love.  He is able to strengthen, guide, heal, calm and assure.  I will trust Him.  He is with us.  We are never alone.<3~thl