If It’s Monday, It’s
Mama….
H is for Hands, Humble and
"HIS"
When you were little, and by little, I mean barely able to sit up,
one of your favorite songs was “If You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your
Hands.”
If you're happy and you know it,
Clap your hands
If you're happy and you know it,
Then your face will surely show it
If you're happy and you know it,
Clap your hands
I know we sang this at least 1,777 times! I began singing this to you when you were in
utero and we sang it until…well, until even now. Precious are the memories of you growing up
with this song…at first, I had to clap your chubby little fingers together
because you didn’t know yet how to “clap” and then, you finally figured out how
to clap, but could not keep the exact rhythm.
Later you found the rhythm but couldn’t remember the words and finally,
you got it all together and could sing it on your own.
Also precious to my mother’s heart is watching you teach this song
to your little brothers when they came along.
You were five when they were born and you very patiently and lovingly taught
them many things, many songs, many tasks, but watching you teach them to sing
and clap to “If You’re Happy and You Know It” is probably one of my favorite
memories.
Hands are important, as you know.
Hands can be used to love or to hurt.
You know I love hands because I have taken photos of yours, Ian's,
your grandparents and other people. It
was touching to me that your dad took the photos I took of Mamaw and Papaw's
hands to Papaw's funeral and set it up front in a place of honor. Obviously, it touched you and your brothers
because each of you mentioned it to me.
Hands tell a lot about a person.
They are used to express emotions, they are used to care for a little
baby or child. Hands are used to work
and make a living and are used to play sports and games.
I think often of Jesus' hands and whether or not we will see the holes
in them when we meet Him in heaven or will they be healed and as if they never
existed? I don't know...we will find out
some day.
I have held your hands many times in your 22 years. I held them when you were born and they
curled around my finger. I held them
when crossing the street to go play. I
held them in prayer at night or when we kneeled over the couch. I have held them when you were scared, I have
held them to encourage you and I have held them as you (and I) wept.
But, mostly, I have held your hand in love...at church...at
home....
You have kind hands, serving hands.
You have happy hands, silly hands, sweet hands. You have hands who can
take on a challenging patient and hands which can rock a baby. You have lovely
hands...right now they are decorated with "nails" and are all pretty
and French looking.
I look forward to many more days of holding your hand...and am
grateful that God chose to give you such a wonderful set...
Hands matter, baby. Always
use yours to the good...only take them places which matter. Only behave with them in ways which are kind
and loving and caring. Take care of
whose hand you chose to place your hand in....for the man who holds your hand
for life needs to be worthy...Godly....tender and loving. And, ultimately, I
pray you are greeted by God's hands...at the golden gate in the Ivory Palace
H is also for humility. Live
a humble life. Have a humble heart. Be a humble soul.
His is also for “HIS”. You
cannot truly “his” unless you are truly HIS.
And, I believe that “he” cannot be truly “yours” until “he” is truly
“HIS”
So, baby…..be HIS.
Blessings on your week.
ILYAOYMC,
Mama
