These hands are dirty.
These hands have played hand games with many dirty little hands.
These hands have passed buckets of concrete for hours on end to lay the floor for an orphanage.
These hands have hugged precious children as they swarm the” Blancos”
These hands have helped carry and chisel bricks for a church/ministry center that is being built.
These hands are bruised, blistered, rubbed raw, dried out, and dirty, but I love it.
The more I work and look at my dirty hands the more I think about what Jesus’s hands must of looked like.
The bible doesn’t spend much time talking about the physical appearance of Jesus, but I can only imagine that Jesus’s hands were dirty and rough as well.
Between the carpentry and fishing, im sure His hands were worn. Add in His ministry, and im sure they were dirty as well. I don’t think Jesus ever turned someone away, or refused to touch someone because they were dirty. In fact the bible tells of a time where Jesus grabbed dirt, spit in it, and put it on a blind man’s eyes to heal Him. I don’t think Jesus was afraid of getting dirty.
My humble human hands cannot begin to be compared to His, but from the time I was young I’ve prayed to be Jesus’s hands and feet and Im beginning to understand what that looks like now. So although my blisters burn as I type this and I’ve had to stop typing twice now to apply band-aids to my raw fingers, I’m honored that God is using me to be His hands. I’m blessed that the God of the universe is using me to be His bruised, blistered, rubbed raw, dried out, dirty hands.
