Yesterday I took a picture of my mom’s praying hands and shared it. When I read the comments, it gave me reason to pause and contemplate. My mom’s hands did indeed reflect those of God’s servant. For most of her life, my mom played the organ for the local church. Even while they moved often, she managed to find a parish who needed an organist. Those hands played the piano forever, brought joy to so many and always kept our home full of music. Her hands have raised children and held the hands of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She taught us how to make the sign of the cross and pray. Her hands took care of the family by cooking, ironing, washing, bathing, wiping, and nurturing. Now, we do our best to care for those hands. We keep them warm and lotioned. My sister gives her a manicure. And my son’s girlfriend gives her a hand massage almost every week. We pray together and make sure she blesses herself with the Holy water. My mom’s hands held and cared for us, now we hold and care for her.

I Found God today in the beauty of my mom’s hands.