One Pair of Hands" by Elvis Presley
When a boy or girl thrusts his small hand in yours, it may be smeared with chocolate ice cream, or grimy from petting a dog, and there may be a wart under the right thumb and a bandage around the little finger.
But the most important thing about his hands is that they are the hands of the future. These are the hands that someday may hold a Bible or a Colt revolver; play the church piano or spin a gambling wheel; gently dress a leper's wound, or tremble... wretchedly uncontrolled by an alcoholic mind.
Right now, that hand is yours. It asks for help and guidance. It represents a full-fledged personality in miniature to be respected as a separate individual whose day-to-day growth into Christian adulthood is your responsibility.
author unknown
Isaiah 41:10 - Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
Proverbs 31:31 - Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.
Disclosure: Much of what is in my posts are things I have compiled through the years and I do not know if they have copyrights. What I do know about origin or website I have tried to always post a link to the origin. I do not market anything in any way on this blog -- I merely hope it will encourage and inspire others.
author unknown
Isaiah 41:10 - Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
Proverbs 31:31 - Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.
Johnny Cash "These Hands" Live in Asbury Park NJ Oct 1985
Wrinkled Hands
In a school there was a class
Of twenty eight-year-olds
They were given a task to find...
The most beautiful thing in the world
In a school there was a class
Of twenty eight-year-olds
They were given a task to find...
The most beautiful thing in the world
Two weeks to search for that thing
Five days to paint it well
Two days to prepare a speech about it
To explain during Show-and-Tell
All the students had their ideas
All that is, but one.
One little boy who tried to do
What no one else had done
He tried to find a special thing
That no one else could find.
Something of beauty yet still unique
But could this be found in time?
Three weeks have gone by
Everyone was excited for class
Each explained his beautiful work
And the little boy went last.
When he showed his little painting
The boo's didn't seem to end
For what beauty can you find
In two pairs of wrinkled hands?
The teacher encouraged the little boy
To explain his work of art
With tears in his eyes, the boy recalled
The people in his heart.
"These are my parent's hands,
The hands they use to earn
These hands worked to send me here
So that I could learn
"These hands have guided me
When I was still a babe
These hands showed me much
Of love that wouldn't fade
"One late night while I was asleep
A great fire broke out
Two strong arms carried me
While the people ran about.
"Then, another pair of hands
Shielded me from the heat
These pair of hands saved me
And were damaged for this feat.
"I know they seem so ordinary
And ugly, they may be
But these wrinkled hands I painted
Are still beautiful to me"
When the little boy sat down
Silence filled the place
Then, the teacher started to clap,
Tears running down her face
For that day she saw much splendor
Much more than she had planned
But she found beauty beyond compare
In the painting of wrinkled hands.
author unknown
Isaiah 49:16 - Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.
Five days to paint it well
Two days to prepare a speech about it
To explain during Show-and-Tell
All the students had their ideas
All that is, but one.
One little boy who tried to do
What no one else had done
He tried to find a special thing
That no one else could find.
Something of beauty yet still unique
But could this be found in time?
Three weeks have gone by
Everyone was excited for class
Each explained his beautiful work
And the little boy went last.
When he showed his little painting
The boo's didn't seem to end
For what beauty can you find
In two pairs of wrinkled hands?
The teacher encouraged the little boy
To explain his work of art
With tears in his eyes, the boy recalled
The people in his heart.
"These are my parent's hands,
The hands they use to earn
These hands worked to send me here
So that I could learn
"These hands have guided me
When I was still a babe
These hands showed me much
Of love that wouldn't fade
"One late night while I was asleep
A great fire broke out
Two strong arms carried me
While the people ran about.
"Then, another pair of hands
Shielded me from the heat
These pair of hands saved me
And were damaged for this feat.
"I know they seem so ordinary
And ugly, they may be
But these wrinkled hands I painted
Are still beautiful to me"
When the little boy sat down
Silence filled the place
Then, the teacher started to clap,
Tears running down her face
For that day she saw much splendor
Much more than she had planned
But she found beauty beyond compare
In the painting of wrinkled hands.
author unknown
Isaiah 49:16 - Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.
Grandpa's Hands
by Melinda Clements
Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands.
...
by Melinda Clements
Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands.
...
When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him.
"Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down.
No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.
Grandpa smiled and related this story:
"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have how they have served you well throughout your years.
These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.
They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.
They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.
As a child my Mother taught me to fold them in prayer.
They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.
They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.
Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.
They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my Parents and Spouse and walked my Daughter down the aisle.
Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot.
They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.
They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.
And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home.
And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."
I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my Grandpa's hands and led him home.
When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and wife, I think of Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him.
"Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down.
No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.
Grandpa smiled and related this story:
"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have how they have served you well throughout your years.
These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.
They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.
They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.
As a child my Mother taught me to fold them in prayer.
They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.
They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.
Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.
They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my Parents and Spouse and walked my Daughter down the aisle.
Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot.
They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.
They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.
And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home.
And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."
I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my Grandpa's hands and led him home.
When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and wife, I think of Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.
Elvis Presley - Put Your Hand In The Hand
The Hand
© 2004 Steve Goodier
At first it sounded like a Thanksgiving story, but the more I reflected on it, the more appropriate it seemed for any time of the year. The way I heard it, the story went like this:
Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment -- to draw a picture of something for which they were thankful.
Most of the class might be considered economically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the subjects of most of her student's art. And they were.
But Douglas made a different kind of picture. Douglas was a different kind of boy. He was the teacher's true child of misery, frail and unhappy. As other children played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the pain Douglas felt behind those sad eyes.
Yes, his picture was different. When asked to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an empty hand.
His abstract image captured the imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be? One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police protect and care for people. Still others guessed it was the hand of God, for God feeds us. And so the discussion went -- until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.
When the children had gone on to other assignments, she paused at Douglas' desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was. The little boy looked away and murmured, "It's yours, teacher."
She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him here or there, as she had the other students. How often had she said, "Take my hand, Douglas, we'll go outside." Or, "Let me show you how to hold your pencil." Or, "Let's do this together." Douglas was most thankful for his teacher's hand.
Brushing aside a tear, she went on with her work.
The story speaks of more than thankfulness. It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how much it means to the Douglass of the world. They might not always say thanks. But they'll remember the hand that reaches out.
WILLY NELSON -- GRANDMA'S HANDS
These are my hands quite aged yet very strong.
I have used them mostly for good and not for wrong.
Jesus has forgiven me from the times they have done evil,
by open or secret sins when I obeyed the devil!
I intend to use them until my last day
For blessing others and to pray.
The MANUFACTURER'S HANDBOOK (AKA THE BIBLE)
IS FILLED WITH SCRIPTURES ABOUT HANDS
Acts 11:21 - And the hand of the Lord was with them: and a great number believed, and turned unto the Lord.
Luke 24:50 - And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them.
Luke 4:40 - Now when the sun was setting, all they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them unto him; and he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed them.
Mark 10:16 - And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.
HANDS -- THEY CAN BLESS AND THEY CAN CURSE ONESELF AND OTHERS
Mark 9:43 - And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched:
Matthew 18:8 - Wherefore if thy hand or thy foot offend thee, cut them off, and cast [them] from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet to be cast into everlasting fire.
WHAT ARE YOUR HANDS BUSY AT?
Tending others in need or lifting a jug and wallowing in self pity?
Isaiah 59:1 - Behold, the LORD'S hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear:
1 Timothy 4:14 - Neglect not the gift that is in thee, which was given thee by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery.
Hebrews 6:2 - Of the doctrine of baptisms, and of laying on of hands, and of resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judgment.
Acts 19:6 - And when Paul had laid his hands upon them, the Holy Ghost came on them; and they spake with tongues, and prophesied.
Mark 16:18 - They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.
Acts 19:6 - And when Paul had laid his hands upon them, the Holy Ghost came on them; and they spake with tongues, and prophesied.
Mark 16:18 - They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.
Corey Hensley These Hands
Jars Of Clay "Two Hands" LIVE
5 comments:
ABUSE AND VIOLENCE are in so many homes -- I just want to say -- God can heal relationships and mend those damaged in anyway (mentally, physically, spiritually or socially) there is hope for hands to do good and not evil -- I pray each person looks closely at their own hands and prays for God to show them the many creative things they were designed to do and ask him to break the chains that have caused them to do evil.
Amen! May my hands be used for God's work. May they make God proud.
What a beautiful post, I have loved reading it and it has brought me to ask 'What have my hands done?', and to reflect more on what they have to do.
God bless you.
I read this earlier and thought I had left a comment, but have come over and see that I did not. I loved the stories and poetry in this and the post makes me so aware of taking note of what my hands do. One of the things that I realize is that I have used my hands for writing, typing and photography and this is the way I love to share testimonies of our beautiful Lord's presence in my life and interact with people. May the Lord cause us to use our hands only for good.
Thanks Brenda!
I recently broke my arm near the wrist and am in a cast -- I certainly have a deeper respect for the agility ability of unity where 2 are much more accomplished than one!
As well as the power of the third to hold things together.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
9 Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
10 If either of them falls down,
one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
and has no one to help them up.
11 Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
12 Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
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