The Strong Hands of Love

Every night when Ray and I go to bed we hold hands. As we traveled across country to visit relatives, we often held hands. I love his leathery hands. They make me feel safe and secure.
There is another pair of hands that are stronger still.
Those hands in the past two years have held me through the loss of a child, a home and even a car that caught fire while I was driving it. They held me when Ray had open heart surgery only eleven months ago. He has held us in economic ups and downs even though some were our own creation.

In fact, that is the best part, He holds me whether I am good, bad or even thoughtless.
 

Isaiah 49:13 Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth; and break forth into singing, O mountains: for the Lord hath comforted his people, and will have mercy upon his afflicted. 14 But Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me. 15 Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.16 Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.

This verse is often misquoted as “I have engraved your name on the palms of my hands.”

Actually the word picture in Isaiah 49 indicates that God has engraved not our names, but our very lives, on his hands. The point is to show that God loves us unconditionally. He cares for us without reserve and He will never forget us.

I love it when Ray takes my hand at night as we lay side by side. It is a perfect prescription for a good night's sleep.

When I , accept the love of my Father, it is a perfect prescription for a good life.