In Daddy's Hands
Delicate, fragile hands gently surrounded by the strong sure hands of her Daddy - Amy’s hands. Amy would have been 4 years old today but in her fight for survival she didn’t quite make it to her first birthday. Something about her hands always intrigued me; her long delicate fingers that sometimes lay flat and peaceful and at other times curled into fists that expressed the pain she could not share with the outside world. Amy was one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen, but her eyes did not see the outside world. Amy’s skin was so soft and she knew touch and responded to it. She was unable to hear and yet her very existence was her profound voice to those around her. Unable to do anything for herself, she was held through her short life by hands that poured incredible love into her. Her very existence each day returned that love into those who held her. Amy was my niece.
As I look at this photo of her hand being tenderly caressed by her Daddy (my youngest brother), I see a new picture of Abba’s grip on His children when the wounds of life have left them very fragile. He does not grab our hand, tugging and pulling us along after Him in that place. I think He offers us His hand and welcomes us to take it and follow after Him, walking through life seeking that sure grip of truth and reality through the seasons of life. But there are times when each child is extremely fragile, overwhelmed by the agonizing pain. Looking at Amy’s hand being delicately caressed I wonder if this is how Abba touches us in our fragility. The most delicate caress upon a precious valuable fragile child. Does He whisper fragile, handle with care? Is this the place in life where Abba simply positions His palms under us, tenderly brushes our bruises with His fingertips, and in the most sensitive way is there to breathe upon us?
If today is one where you feel fragile, maybe this is how Abba will have His hands on you.
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