It’s the little things she needs someone for, like someone to hold her hand at the end of a long day, or someone to watch stupid comedies with, or someone to curl up with on the couch on a lazy Sunday morning as she reads the newspaper and eats her cereal. Which probably means she doesn’t ‘need’ someone in the strictest sense, although at the end of a long day, or while watching a stupid comedy, or on a lazy Sunday morning, having someone would be very much appreciated.
I’ve never been one to boast about my body, even if it were anything to boast about, but I’ve found that I love my hands.
My hands tell my story. When I look down at them I see my awkward childhood and adolescence. Years of hiding my hands due to there clumsiness and disproportionate size. I see a lonely little girl who didn’t know who she was. But at a closer examination I see how I have grown; how my hands now fit the rest of me and I no longer feel the need to hide.
When I look at my hands I see all the pain and disappointment they have caused me. All the things I should not have touched; all the dark secrets that they hold. But with the same look I am reminded of all the hands I have embraced in love, all the gestures of help that I have given with these same hands.
My hands with their many creases, rough spots, and dirt under my nails expose my love of honest hard work. My need to prove my eagerness, to always give my all. The mark where my pen or pencil sits on my left hand in long days and nights working hard to give myself a voice. The struggle to find myself over the loud buzzing noise of secular conformity.
When I look at my hands I see the handiwork of my Savior, and His ever true promise to never let go. I see His faithful love and mercy, His ability to take these hands and create something beautiful out of my rough spots, my creases, and my dirt.
When I observe my hands I see the person I am and the person I am striving to be. I see evidence of my failures and hope for my futures. I see two beautiful and wonderful reminders that I am beautifully and wonderfully made.
Whenever your heart starts to be anxious about the future, preach to your heart and say, ‘Heart, who do you think you are to be afraid of the future and nullify the promise of God? No, heart, I will not exalt myself with anxiety. I will humble myself in peace and joy as I trust this precious and great promise of God—He cares for me.’