Hands

Our Hands.

Its weariness can tell a thousand stories.

For some , they merely get daily chores done.

For others , they put daily bread on the table.

A gentle touch conveys encouragement.

A clenched fist tells of resentment.

They create master-pieces.

Yet , they destroy indiscriminately.

Our hands can express a lot more than we realize.

Watch how preciously a mother holds her newborn in her arms , while gently whispering lullabies into his/her ears. Or how a father leads his frightened preschooler by the hand into school? Just look at a pair of lovers holding hands , and you'll see how an intimate touch can say more than a thousand words. Remember that gentle squeeze on the hand someone gave you , telling you to "Hang on in there!" when words are of no use anymore? Or the pat on the back a proud parent gives his/her child , applauding his/her achievements? We often offer a hand to someone in need and we give generously.

In times of distress , we hold them out helplessly in submission. We bury our faces in our hands to hide our tears. We may pull someone back , begging them to stay by us. We fidget restlessly , impatiently waiting for that important piece of news. After years of hardwork , we begin to see the scars and lines of toil on our hands.

Yet , the same hand that we use to love is also used to hit and propagate violence. The same hands that create master pieces can be used to vandalize and destroy creation. The hand that leads and calls forward is also capable of pushing away. Hands that unite may also tear apart. Fingers pointing in all directions , blaming everyone else , but ourselves , for the problems we have.

There are many things we can do with our hands. It really depends on how we choose to use them.

Our hands can represent us and the fingers we have are the different roles we play, some more prominent than the other, but just as important. We may be a parent , a child , a sibling , a friend , a teacher , a student or merely an acquaintance. The lines on our hands represent the experiences , both good and bad , that God has allowed us to experience , moulding us into who we are. Every 'hand' has their own story to tell and there will never be 2 hands that are exactly the same. That's how creative God is! Everytime we come in contact with another person , we leave our 'handprints' in that persons life. Metaphorically speaking , if we began life with an empty white canvas that God has provided us with , by the time we're done with life , we would have a colourful canvas filled with handprints! A brief encounter may be a light-coloured handprint and a lasting memory may be intense and clearly printed. Its up to you what colours you would want to colour those handprints=)