I have always said you can tell a lot about a person by their hands. When you look at a person's hands you can normally tell how their day is spent. You can tell if they clean house all day, you can tell if they change motor oil for a living, with the sign of a callus you can see them swinging a hammer daily, you can tell if they have a habit of biting their nails, you can tell if they have extra time in their lives to maintain themselves, you can see how cushioned or how hard their life is.
When you look at a person's hands you can see the gentleness as they hold their children, you may be able to tell that they are folded together daily for prayer, or you may sometime see uneasiness. Whatever it is.. it's a story, you may see a scar from long ago that will remain forever. Every person has a story, has thoughts, has a history, has feelings, has happiness and struggles.
Where is this blog entry stemming from? For the past month I have had to step back and look at my hands, so to say.. I've looked over my life, and read the story of my life one page at a time. I have had so many blessing in my life and yet so many struggles. I have been handed things (though too stubborn to accept) and have been made to fight for other things in my life.
When looking at my hands I see memories of the road I've traveled through my life, I see people I've cared for with my hands. I can see scars of my sweet childhood and think back to my brothers and the connection that only we shared. My hands have held my head as I cried from a broken heart, and directly after they wiped the tears from my eyes. My hand raises as I meet a passing car as I travel down the road. My hands have cradled my children in the wee hours of the night, and stroked every single hair on their head as they've slept in my arms. My hands have gripped the handle bars of my childhood bike as I made my way down the long dirt road of freedom to my friend's house... and they are also the hands that steered my way home. My hands hold a wedding band that is a circle, an endless circle built by God, trust, love and passion. As I looked to the band that incircles my finger I realize that though I can physically take the band off, I have an indention in my finger. This indention was not present the first year in our marriage. This indention may not have been there the third year of our marriage, but after eight years it is ingrained deep. As these hands wipe a tear, I also wonder if it took eight year to earn this indention how has it gone unnoticed for all this time? As I look to my hands I see all the days spent working the ground for our garden only to burn my hands with canning jars as I put up the crop. My hands have clasped in prayer countless times. My hands show that I have two children and am not consumed with the latest color of polish. During certain months of the year you can take one glance and know that I'm not like others my age.. you will see my hands stained purple with scratches around the edges, telling you that I spent the day picking blackberries and making Jelly. My hands have been raised for a Star Trek High Five at least 100 times (inside joke for Casey). You may see ink covering the palm of my hand, with countless reminders of what to do. My hands have been the tool I've used to explore this world & reach out to others along the way.
I'm not really sure why I've blogged about this tonight.. could be that it's 2am and I can't sleep or could be because I feel we should all take a look at our lives. Look to see where we come from and where we are going... to see if the path you plan to take in life is a path that leads to happiness and love for yourself and others around you? To look and understand that each person you come to has a story to them... and to be proud of your story.