Hands

Honor her for all that her hands have done,
    and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. – Proverbs 31:31

I spent last week back in my hometown. My siblings and I recently helped my mom move to an assisted living community, and I was back to visit her and the rest of my family.

The last several years as I have been back it has become rudely apparent that time does not stand still for any of us, least of all for my mom.  She needs help with things now that never required help before. To be honest, some days it is hard to remember to honor her, to not be impatient, to remember that she’s the one who taught me to use a spoon. And so much else.

Her hands poignantly tell that story. Her wedding rings no longer fit her ring finger, mostly because of the arthritis in her knuckles. So she wears them together with my Dad’s high school ring to keep from losing them.

One of the great joys for her is to go for a ride and if there are sunflowers along the dirt road in the hills, to stop and pick some for her room. Dad often came back from the mountain with a bouquet of sunflowers for her.

There are little things that mean so much and take so little. Grant me grace and mercy, dear Lord.