The Hands of Jesus

Eager to hear the speakers and musician, 1,600 – 1,700 women had filled the seats of the arena. Having waited in my booth to ensure every customer was served, I was one of the last women to try and find a seat. After careful examination, my sister in law found what appeared to be the only 15 seats left, 5 in each of the top three rows. It was difficult to see exactly where she was seated as all the lights were off, save the ones pointed at the speaker. I took a cursory glance at my precious mother and charged ahead, determined that stairs were not going to keep me from enjoying this incredible conference.

A few facts will help you better understand the current state my mother and I found ourselves in. Earlier that day, we had emptied my van of all my handcrafted items, a table, some chairs, a backdrop, and all the other necessities for assembling a booth at a vendor market. We had done so in 92-degree heat and even 2 hours into arranging my items, my hair was still wet from the sweat dripping down my face. It was our first vendor event, and though we had diligently prepared, we were woefully unprepared for the physical exertion needed to complete a booth. Finishing just as shoppers were making their way down the hallway, we visited, explained, and sold items for two and a half hours. We were exhausted in every sense of the word. In addition, due to a variety of issues, I have very little balance. In order to step up or down, even slight amounts, I need something to hold on to in order not to fall. Furthermore, though my vision is quite good with contacts, I cannot see at without an abundance of light. While some people can adjust to the lack of light, I cannot. As you might imagine, each of the challenges made walking the two flights of stairs challenging at best.

Grabbing a hold of both sides of the rail, I took each step two feet at a time. I made good progress up the first flight of stairs. Emboldened by my success, I confidently turned directions to begin the second flight. Instead, I froze. There was even less light on this section of the arena and there was no rail at all. Knowing that the two bags I was carrying would create further imbalance, I simply set them down on the stairs. I then went back to my frozen stance because I had no idea how to climb stairs that I could not see, with no rail to guide or support me.

It was almost 8 o’clock on one of the hardest and longest days of my adulthood. As I stood facing an impassible obstacle, my heart hurt. I needed this time to worship God. I needed to be able to set down the burdens that so often weigh me down. I needed to rest. I needed to feel renewed and refreshed. Instead, I felt ashamed, scared, and angry. Tears began to flood my eyes.

Suddenly, I saw the light from a cell phone shine on the stairs. A wave of gratitude swept through me. I attempted to take a step up. In order to avoid not falling, I simply stepped back down. Instantly, a hand was extended on my right. I took a hold of that hand and allowed the strength of the other person to propel me up one stair. Before I could wonder what to do next, a hand was extended on my left. Grabbing that hand, and beginning to walk up the next stair, I saw that from the bottom row to the top row, there was a hand waiting for mine. There was now no part of that obstacle that was impassable.

With every ounce of strength I could gather, I took hand after hand, and relying on the strength of others, made my way to the empty chairs at the top of the arena. Falling into the metal seat, all I could think was that this must be what is meant by the phrase, “the hands and feet of Jesus.” Quietly, with a smile and a nod, a stranger set down my bags in front of me. Again, the hands and feet of Jesus. The worship and the words that followed were awesome. I enjoyed every minute of it. Still, nothing was as powerful as that group of women whose outstretched hands ensured that I was able to experience the rest and renewal I needed.

I could go on and on with words about the lessons contained in this act. I could tell you how much good it did for my heart to not be judged, just simply helped. There are so many more words that could be written about each aspect of that incredible gesture. The truth is though, it speaks for itself.