These Hands

I very rarely dream about Joseph. I would really love to, and I pray to. But I can count on one hand the number of dreams I've had about him.
Without fail, in each dream he still has his little limp he acquired after his surgeries, and he is still sick. I'm not sure why that is. I think maybe in some way I'm still worried he needs me and I long to take care of him.
And the dreams always include his hands or feet.

I don't know about you, but I notice hands and feet. I think they tell a lot about a person.
With children, the hands and feet are precious.
"Hold ma handy." "No want to wear shoes."

I saw a lot of Joseph's feet because he hated shoes, and I hated battling him on this.
So, he went bare foot a lot. Oh, those feet.

One thing that devastates me even still is my lack of gratitude while Joseph was little. How I didn't cherish little things and whined a lot about minor inconveniences. I didn't know the glory in front of me. The eternal soul I was caring for.

We are encountering the glorious every day. Your spouse, your mom, your children. They are eternal souls wrapped in bodies with hands and feet and hair and a smile and a pout, and maybe a beard?

These hands are ours to hold if we will. The feet ours to lead.
But gratitude can be hard when there are so many trials and pain.
Or maybe it's just the mundane that gets us. So many dishes to clean--again, dirty clothes to wash--again, bills to pay--again?
How can we keep our joy when the weeds of worry grow fast around our hearts?
Could it be a simple offering? An offering of thanks?
Counting up our blessings, because they are numerous?

We've been adding our leaves of thanks to our thankful tree and we've noticed a funny thing happening.
Once you start, you can't stop! And you start competing for who likes something the most. "I love cinnamon rolls." "Oh, wait, no I love cinnamon rolls!" "Okay, you can have it."
And before you know, the laughter comes. And was that joy I felt?
And I notice the little hands, the missing tooth, the adorable voice.
And I'm thankful for these kids, these hands, these lives--entrusted to me for such a short time. But maybe I can treasure up these moments in my heart forever?
And when I get to heaven, I can pour them out...a thank offering to the Giver, the source of joy, the maker of hands and feet, the holder of our hearts, the sustainer of our lives.

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