After a week resting and exploring Kathmandu, I was finally on my way to my ministry site for the rest of the month in Nepal. I sat in a window seat on an overcrowded bus, thankfully squished next to my new teammate Tina (as opposed to a stranger). Within the first hour of our trip on winding mountain roads through the mighty Himalayas, Tina leaned over and told me someone was using her knee as a handhold. This bus was so crowded with people, everyone was just holding onto whatever they could reach for support, and we couldn’t even tell who’s hand was on her knee. She kept a lighthearted attitude about this invasion of personal space as we laughed and joked about how “you never know what you’ll experience on the World Race.”
After a while we figured out the mysterious hand belonged to the older gentleman leaning over Tina. He stood in the aisle right next to us, sometimes leaning far over Tina to hold onto the seat in front of me for support. I felt a little guilty sitting down while he stood, though I was far from comfortable in my seat. He wore a traditional Nepali hat on his head, and when I caught his eye I saw kindness and love.
For much of our journey I was staring out the window at the spectacular views, taking photos and making memories as my eyes and lens captured pieces of Nepal’s culture and natural beauty. But my eyes were also drawn to the hands holding the seat in front of me. This man’s hands told a lot about his life. Their tan color and weathered state indicated years of hard work. The dirt under his fingernails told me he’s not afraid to get a little messy. I looked into this man’s kind eyes and wondered where he had been and what he had done. I pictured him working long hours in mountainside fields to support his family, giving of himself gladly for the sake of others. I didn’t exchange a single word with this man, and I can’t know with certainty what kind of life he has lived. But somehow my heart felt encouraged by our meeting.
I found myself looking at my own hands, and wondering what a stranger could tell about my life by studying them. I wondered if my hands would show a life filled with labors of love by the time I reached this man’s age. I can only hope at the end of my life I can lift my hands to the Lord and hear “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
Hands can do many things. They can cause pain, or they can soothe a hurt. They can break things, or they can make new and beautiful things. They can rest idly, or they can work hard. They can bring people down or lift them up. They can gather material possessions greedily or they can give to those in need. They can be kept hidden and useless or be lifted high in praise.
What do your hands tell about your life? How can you use your hands to glorify God today?
Here are a few verses about hands from the Word:
-Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Isaiah 40:12
-Nevertheless, the righteous will hold to their ways, and those with clean hands will grow stronger. Job 17:9
-But I trust in you, Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hands; deliver me from the hands of my enemies, from those who pursue me. Psalm 31:14-15
-But I said, “I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing at all. Yet what is due me is in the Lord’s hand, and my reward is with my God.” Isaiah 49:4
-Stretch out your hand to heal and perform signs ad wonders through the name of your holy servant Jesus. Acts 4:30
