Today I was thinking about the hands of God.
I was thinking about a person reaching out to God. Maybe standing on a hill, arms outstretched.
And I was thinking of God's hands, reaching out to the person.
And then I started looking at His hands.
They're big enough to hold the world. These hands hold the world and everything in it. The seas, the moon, the mountains, the animals. The galaxy. And who knows what might lie beyond. And it all fits in the palm of His big hands.
His hands are gentle enough to form a baby. Tiny fingers and toes. The little heart. So small, so delicate. Carefully touching, carefully forming. Gentle, tender.
God's hands are strong. They cover us, protect us. They fight the enemy and do no allow him to win. Muscular and flexible. They define the word strength. They are mighty.
They're able to withstand nails being hammered through. God's hands are the picture of Love.
God's hands heal. The brokenness and pain that is in our lives and hearts, His hands touch and make whole and well again.
Reaching out to God, you are always assured of God reaching back to you.