Holidays always seem to do something to me that I never really want and tend to dread. It’s a little aggravating, yet avoidable. Somewhat discomforting, but always manageable. And the thing is … with a tinge more attention on my part, I could eliminate it all together. But honestly, it creeps up on me every holiday season due to sheer neglect.
What am I grumbling (as graciously as I can) about?
Dry hands. Dry itchy worn out overworked hands.
You see, from Thanksgiving to New Years, I (like everyone of you reading this blog) do my fair share of cooking, baking, washing dish after dish after dish, and keeping all pots and pans squeaky clean. Which only means that my hands are going to be under a stream of rushing hot water a whoooole lot more than normal. I have by my sink a dispenser of lotion, but most of the time I plum forget to use it. After having had my hands submerged in a sink of hot water, I just walk away with no “after torture treatment” of any kind. The payoff? Dry itchy wrinkly pruned up and somewhat pitiful looking hands.
But you know … as I stand at my sink, washing dishes that my family and friends have used as we gathered around our table, as I wash pots and pans that were used to place a feast for loved ones to enjoy, and as I’ve kept my kitchen (and other kitchens) going with folks coming in and going out, the overstressed hands are not so much a problem, as they are a praise! Although I’d rather not avoid the care of them, when I look to see what “the hospitality of feeding and feasting, serving and sacrificing,” looks like, I have nothing but rejoicing in my heart!! A thankful praise to be able to experience HIM in the love and laughter with others!
But here’s the real place of joy — when I think, in comparison, of the hands of my Savior, I well up with an even greater praise!
Because His hands were more than afflicted by the overuse of hot water. His hands were afflicted in being the ultimate sacrifice, being the ultimate servant, showing eternal hospitality to the world, and inviting all to feast and feed upon His own life! Jesus chose the nails. He chose to have His hands placed on a wooden cross so that we could have eternal life with Him.
He chose hands that would suffer abuse to bleed abounding love to us all.
You see, the rushing fountain of water that daily streams out of my faucet — that has dried, aged, and made my hands feel like fine alt steel wool — is actually an everyday reminder.
An everyday reminder that Jesus sacrificed His life, that He stretched out His own worn and weathered hands onto a cross, so that I can say of Him,
“For with You is the fountain of life.” Psalm 36:9
“All my fountains are in You.” Psalm 87:7
The next time we see that rushing stream coming from our faucets, let’s place our hands under it’s flow and see it as an everyday reminder to praise our God for the greatest “Servant Hands,” named our eternal “Fountain of Wisdom”.
“the Fountain of Wisdom is a rushing stream.” Proverbs 18:4