Hands intrigue me. I notice people’s hands wherever I go. Hands contain a wealth of knowledge. For many years I was afflicted with sweaty palms when it came time to shake hands. Between church and work it seemed that there was always a need to grab my fellow companions’ hands and…pump. Prior to the ritual, I would do everything to attempt to dry them…but as I looked out of the corner of my eye to see the person with whom I had just clasped hands…dry their hands on their garment…I knew that I had not succeeded. One day the perspiring hands went away…about the time that I retired.

The hands of the elderly are full of their lives message. You can see the care that they have given their family and the toil of their life. I had a cologne container from Avon many years ago that when it became empty I saved it…as it was a hand. The Bible likens a hand to the fivefold ministry of God. Most Christian faiths regard the hands as significant to ordination and baptism.

‘And it came to pass at the seventh time, that he said, Behold, there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand. And he said, Go up, say unto Ahab, Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that the rain stops thee not.’ I Kings 18:44

What is more precious than a little baby extending its hands to be picked up by its mother? Or, how about the hands that give a cool drink of water to the thirsty.

The office or white-collar worker may have smooth hands while the blue-collar worker’s hands are rough and calloused. Hands hold deep meaning. They are tools for caring for ourselves and for our families. Jesus told Thomas to place his fingers in the holes of his crucified hands.

He sat on the street of New York City. He was blind and homeless and he had fashioned a sign that said, ‘You may curse me for $1. Some tourists fresh out of the Broadway Theatres and on their way to a fine New York dinner…did just that and they laughed and the blind man laughed a hollow chuckle. Suddenly a kind voice spoke. ‘How long have you been blind…my friend?’ ‘I was born this way…good sir…have you an epitaph for me…I am part of the great unwashed and unnoticed and unloved…’ He put his hands under his arms and lifted him up to a standing position. ‘Come to my house and I will make you dinner and there is a hot bath…and a clean and warm bed for you to lay your head on,’ he said. ‘But I am loathed by the multitude and those with resources see me as dysfunctional and lazy and feel that they are enabling me to rely on charity…but is a sore manner to be enabled as children spit on me and some kick me…many do not pay the dollar after they have sworn at me and reviled me,’ the blind man said in little more than a whisper. ‘Not today…I have a job for you in my business and your demonstrated communication skills and ingenuity have illustrated to me that you are just the man for the job,’ he said.

‘I am reluctant to ask…but are you Jesus,’ the Blind Man asked? ‘I am you…and you are me,’ he said with tears in his eyes…