Linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker and friends for Five Minute Friday. As Lisa Jo states, “On Fridays we write. And sometimes it goes all over the place and we let it. We get messy and real and sometimes we cry and sometimes we laugh but we get it done week after week. We show up and write free.” Today’s prompt is “Hands.”
By the time I knew her, brought into this world through her womb and love, the Father’s and my parents, her hands were worn.
I never saw them with polished nails but I saw them dirtied by labor and washed clean after dishes or laundry.
I never saw them clenched, although I know there were times that she was angry.
I did see them closed in prayer. Oh, how she prayed, not only for her biological children (and there were enough of us to keep her prayer list filled) but also for extended family members, and for neighbors, and for pastors, and missionaries. Oh, how she prayed.
She would often touch my head as she walked by. Sometimes, I would be startled because I was caught up in the books that I devoured regularly. She would speak volumes in her loving touch, without saying a single word.
My mother’s hands. Thankful. Thankful. Thankful.