Hands

My hands are responsible for so many things. I’m not sure I could begin to count the things my hands do. I’m typing this blog using my hands. I’m picking up my coffee cup occasionally using my hand. I know that I probably take for granted the use of my hands. I remember playing a game with my youth group years ago and giving each student a handicap so that they could understand how important all the parts of the body are to our functionality.

My hands can form a fist and be ready to fight.

My hands can warmly greet another with a handshake.

My hands can punish.

My hands can reward.

My hands can’t do anything on their own. They do what my mind directs them to do. I came across this simple passage this morning that reminded me of another use of hands. Check this out…

When I lift my hands in worship of God, it is so symbolic of giving Him everything. I can’t hold on to anything if my hands are open and raised in worship. I am also declaring my dependence upon Him for all that I am. He is my Abba Father – My Heavenly Dad. I sometimes need Him to pick me up and hold me much like my children asked me they were toddlers. Sometimes they just wanted to be held and they would come and raise their hands to me.

Today I will praise the Lord with lifted hands and bent knee. I know that all I am and ever will be comes from Him. I want to live out of surrender to Him. I want to lead out of surrender to Him.