“Getting on in years,” “Past one’s prime,” “Old Fuddy-Duddy” – these are all things that I used to think of “OLD PEOPLE.” Guess what I’ve found out? I’m now an “OLD PERSON!” Who knew? How did it happen? I don’t even have to look in the mirror and count gray hairs (There are definitely too many to count!) to figure it out. No, I just looked down at my hands, and it’s pretty obvious that “they’ve been there and done that!” Our hands tell our stories.
I remember the days when I got manicures every other week. My hands were smooth from the lotion that I kept on my desk. Those were the days! Now, there are “love freckles” (a.k.a. old age spots) on the back of my hands. The skin is a little looser than it once was. There’s a scar on one finger where I got a paper cut last week (Man, that hurt!) and then, there are the scars from surgeries. Carpal tunnel surgeries on both hands didn’t fix the problem, so in 2016, I had arthroscopic thumb joint replacement surgery on both hands, six months apart. It was rough, but I made it! Plus, there are the scars from where I accidentally touched the oven rack getting pizzas and dishes out over the years. Let’s just say, “I’ll never be a ‘hand model!'”
But when I think of my hands, I think about all of the meals that they’ve fixed – of the hundreds of potluck dishes they’ve prepared. I think of the sweet babies that I’ve held – first, my two beautiful girls, and then, my wonderful grandson. I think of all of the words that I’ve typed – first on a manual typewriter, then an electric typewriter, and finally on a computer keyboard. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we? I remember holding rotary dial phones and talking on a party line. We thought push button phones were modern! Now, I carry the “world” in my hand while holding my cell phone, and don’t think anything about it. A couple of years back, Steve and I were walking down the “strip” in Gatlinburg, when one of the guys in a booth trying to sell timeshares, yelled out at us, “How long have y’all been holding hands?” Steve and I just smiled. It’s been over 40 years since we held hands walking down the halls in high school. As much as it used to embarass our girls, I’m so thankful that Steve and I are still walking “hand in hand.”
In fact, one of my favorite hymns is “Hand in Hand With Jesus.” This hymn was written by Johnson Oatman (1856-1922). The chorus is so beautiful – “Hand in hand, we walk each day, Hand in hand along the way. Walking thus I will not stray, Hand in hand with Jesus.” I love the thought of Jesus reaching out to hold my hand, don’t you?
Some may look at my hands and think, she’s not a kid any more. But old? Who me? Nope, I’m just simply blessed, Courtney
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