Hands.....sometimes I remember especially poignant memories in the form of an image engraved within my mind. One of those memories was when we lost our young Megan. As they began to roll her casket out of the church, my brother, her father reached out and put his hand on the casket as it went by......his hand reaching out to touch her in the only way he could.
Recently I was visiting my Mother and Daddy in NC. Daddy has trouble remembering things and walks slowly with his walker. On my last night at home we went to a restaurant. As we were leaving I saw from behind my father trying to navigate his way out through the people near the entrance. And there behind him was my brother with his hand on Daddy's shoulder to steady him. It was the same hand and my mind went immediately back to Megan. His loving hand still offering that touch in the only way that he could.
There is another hand that reaches out to touch us, to steady us and to assure us that we are never alone. That hand holds everything that we are and everything that we could ever hope to be. That hand bares the scar of His sacrifice. That hand bares the scar of a nail.......Hands, O the power the touch of a hand holds!