John, have you ever thought about what our hands signify? Or how many times we use hands to send a message - intentionally or unintentionally? Or how you can look at someone’s hands and read a little about their story. Don’t ask why, but I woke up with this on my mind. Hands….they say a lot. And this Thanksgiving season, as we clasp our hands together in gratitude, I want to give thanks to the many hands that gave me a hand up.
Thank you for my grandaddy’s hands - worn, calloused, scarred. How they told the story of the working man unafraid of torn flesh, grease, or a rusted fence. Thank you for teaching me integrity, how to be a victor and not a victim, and how God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt.
There’s my dad's hands - who proudly carried the American flag in his hands as he went to Vietnam. And then swapped the flag for alcohol when he came home. A story of a misunderstood struggle suffered through alone. Thank you for teaching me forgiveness, redemption, and perseverance.
There’s my mama’s hands - who raised them in frustration over my childhood behavior, but who consoled patients as she changed their bedpans day in and day out. A story of a single mama. Thank you for teaching me that there is dignity and honor in ALL work. And being a mom is the most honorable of all.
And then there are the hands of strangers that I’m thankful for. Those that with the use of a single hand gesture send a message. I prefer the hands that form a heart shape. A thumbs up. Or the peace sign - a goody from back in my youth that apparently has made quite the resurgence with the kids. But often, I see the raising of a fist. The bold ones shoot me the bird in the airport. That’s always nice. I just wave and smile in return. I’m thankful to you too - thank you for reminding me the first amendment is available to all in this beautiful place we call America.
The miracle of America is written on the hands of her citizens. Our stories are still being written and the authors are people with struggle, joy, redemption, and hope. I’m thankful for all of the hands, truly. But the one set of hands I can’t do without - the ones that “hands down” beat all - are the hands of my God. In everything, great and small, His hands are in it all. And so today, I’m thankful for all the hands in my life, but I lift my hands to give thanks to the One who deserves all praise.
Blessings to all of you and your families. May your hands be filled with prosperity, love, and hope this Thanksgiving.
God Bless,
Tim Scott
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