Beautiful Helper

1/12/2022

Psalm 90:17 "Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands." ESV

I have never been beautiful, although I come from a family of real lookers. Throughout junior high and high school, I had awful inferiority issues and low self-worth. That is when my mom and aunt started using the word "exotic" to describe me. I am anything but exotic-looking with pasty skin and, for most of my life, red hair. I know they were trying to be nice to me and not make me feel worse than I did, but it didn't really make me feel better. You see, I have two older sisters who are truly beautiful. (I have two brothers also, but they don't quite factor into this story.) I am not being biased in an "I think that because I love them" kind of way. Nope, everyone who has ever seen them agrees. I, on the other hand, was a skinny, awkward kid with a mop of unruly curly hair; I was just funny-looking. It's difficult to be the youngest in this kind of scenario. Oh yes, eventually I learned about makeup and hair products and those helped, but I still never could achieve real beauty. 

One feature that I would often get compliments on, oddly enough, were my hands. In my upper teens my nails were always painted and a perfect length, and, as I already mentioned, I have very pale skin. I remember some people actually telling me I should be a hand model. Strange, I know, but it was something that made me feel a little better about myself. I never did pursue that area, but I think about it now and then. There is actually a crazy Seinfeld episode where George gets noticed for his hands and starts modeling watches and such, The strongest image I still have from that one show was of George walking around everywhere with oven mittens on to protect his valuable assets. Of course it goes horribly wrong, as his life always did. 

Today, I looked down at my hands, as I often do. As a person with OCD, my hands have become a bit of a focus and a problem. Over the last 10 years they have changed dramatically. My once model worthy hands are dry, ravaged, and raw. I have actually damaged them so badly that my fingerprints can no longer be detected. (Yes, I could be a cat burglar, but I don't really like cats. Bud-dump-bump-ching! Sorry.) When I was ill, the evil one used my hands against me to lock me in fear, but now I see them as nothing but a beautiful true gift from God. 

Anyway, I got to thinking today about hands and all they can accomplish. They may be our most functionally practical part of the body. That first time a baby grabs a parent's finger is a magical moment. Holding hands with someone you want to protect, or walking hand in hand with someone you love. We largely care for one another with our hands though cooking, cleaning, dressing, doing projects, practicing medicine,etc. We create art and music with them. We write letters, stories, and blogs with our hands. We can give a gentle touch or a gesture of caution or humor with them. Some people communicate entirely with their hands. You can also pull someone in for a big hug, which is one of my favorite things. The best thing of all is that it doesn't matter if your hands are beautiful enough to model, dry and weathered from washing, are very young, or have lived a long and storied life; they can always be used to help someone.

Our bodies are miraculous machines, designed by the Creator of the universe. Once redeemed, they are a vessel of the Holy Spirit. Even concentrating our thoughts on a part as utilitarian as the often overlooked hand, we can see the majesty of our Savior and Lord. These two blessed parts of the body also open the greatest, most read, and profound book in all the world; the Word of God. With our hands, we can reach out and love our neighbors and each other. We can reverently entwine them together in prayer. We can lift them in praise to our Savior.  

Psalm 134:2 "Lift up your hands to the holy place and praise the Lord." ESV