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blessings

Loving Hands: “A Tribute to Moms”

150 150 Debi Moses
Hands of Love

Hand of Love

And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.” Mark 10:16

“Well, bless your heart,” is a Southern saying for sure, and one that has graced my ears throughout the years. After skinning my knee while chasing my brothers, I would run into the house with tears running down my cheeks, and mom would always say, “Well, bless your heart,” as she gave me a hug, followed by a trip to the medicine cabinet to get the Mercurochrome to clean my “devastating” injury before placating me with a Barbie Band-Aid. That red magic potion would burn like the devil, but she gingerly blew on my knee to help take the sting away. She would lovingly pat my little stubby hand, and I truly believe her touch did the healing. Mom’s youthful hands gradually became spotted with age and eventually disfigured with arthritis as the years went by, but the love she gave with her priceless touch never diminished.

It wasn’t until I slowed down long enough to examine my new blue nail polish that it came to me, “I’ve got my mother’s hands!” The vivid memories came flooding in, and I thought to myself, “This is one sign of maturity that I truly don’t mind.” I realize the appearance of my hands is not a flaw at all — it’s a gift!

When I look at my hands, not only do I see Mom’s hands, her smile travels across my mind. I hear her exuberant claps as she proudly applauds following my lack-luster recitals. I see her holding her trembling hands high up in the air, wearing her crooked cowboy hat, as she played banker and handed over all of the bank’s money to her grandsons, wearing their bandana masks, before they rode away on their stick horses. I see her sitting in her chair, lovingly stitching with her hands each square of material, as she made the many quilts we have cuddled in throughout the generations. Even today, I can still feel the warmth of her hands leaving her body as I held on to them tightly, selfishly not wanting to let her walk away into the arms of Jesus. I was truly blessed by her hands, her touch, and her love.

Now I get to share the blessings of mom’s hands with my grandchildren. Taking walks holding on to their soft little hands, folding my hands into “prayer hands” as a little one says the family prayer, and even taking a squirmy fish off of a hook is the best way I know to pass on the love. At the end of the day I get my reward when bath time comes, and I get splashed with bubbles from little ones as they play with trucks, sheep, cows, and whatever else may find its way into the tub. Being baptized and blessed by a grandchild’s love is the very best.

Jesus took the little children in His arms and touched them and blessed them. Little children, mature adults and even those pesky teenagers need a loving touch. The joy of a mother is taking our children into our arms, reaching out when they need a hand to hold, or clapping to encourage even the worst performance. That is our joy. If you’re not with your mother today, remember her touch, breathe in those treasured memories that will make your heart sing and feel the many blessings that Jesus gives each of us. If you are with your mother, walk over to her and just sit closely and hold her hand. Blessing her with your touch is the best gift of all as you celebrate her day.

Pray with Me:

Dear Father of Loving Hands,

You reach out to us and hold us so many times as we walk our days. Thank you for giving us the women in our lives who molded us by their touch.

Reaching out to You

Points to Ponder:

Mothers come in all shapes and sizes and come and go in our lives, and I was blessed to have three wonderful mothers whose hands touched my heart and soul. My mom, Lanore Austin, who gave me life, my precious mother-in-law, Mary Frances Moses, whose hands taught me how to needlepoint and make a great chocolate pie, and my other mother, Billie Johnson, who came into my life in the form of a friend, and created joy wherever she went.

  1. Who are the mothers in your life?
  2. If you can’t name one, is there someone in your life who needs a child?
  3. What’s your favorite memory of your mom? Share it with someone and continue her story.

The Look John 5:6

150 150 Debi Moses

Run and dance“When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?” “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me. John 5:6-7

“Do you want to get well?” Jesus asked the man as he lay by the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem. Surely people inquired about this poor man as they did me while I sported my snappy looking knee brace. He had been lying by the pool for years and no one would help him into the healing waters.

Unlike him, I garnished many looks and remarks as I limped along wearing my new fashion accessory. “You poor thing” or  “Did you strain your knee running in a marathon?” were just a few.  (I don’t even know how many miles are in a marathon, but if it equals four laps around North Park Mall, that might be a realistic possibility.) Being a straight – forward person, the truth always came out. “Never table dance in six inch heels. It can be hazardous to your health, especially if your husband spills lemonade on the table.  In fact, it can result in a slip and fall even by the most balanced of dancers like me.”  As I perched on the edge of that rickety table looking for a hand to catch me, I wonder how many blessings I have missed by being self-absorbed and passing others with despair in their eyes as they sat on the edge of the pool of life like the man at the Sheep Gate?  They might have been looking for a hand to catch them, push them into the healing waters, or praying for a listening ear and gentle touch.  Praying for the Holy to enter their being so they could be healed body, mind and spirit.

Like them, sometimes I limp through my days looking for a little help and others I dance, enjoying every minute. But then I slip on the edge and in fear grasp the edge instead of diving in headfirst. Perhaps since my table-dancing days are over, I’ll have more time to keep my feet on the ground, listen for the Holy One and keep my eyes open for others who want to go for a little dip. I’m blessed someone tossed me in years ago, but I can always use a refreshing dip.

Pray with me:

Dear Lord of Refreshment,

Your healing powers are just a breath away. Help me to let go and slip into Your healing arms.

I’m dancing for You

Points to Ponder:

1.  What prevents you from resting in Jesus’ arms?

2.  Have you ever seen pain or hurt in someone’s eyes? Were you present for them?

3. Have you been touched by a stranger’s kindness to you?

 

little “d” debi

150 150 Debi Moses

“…for the Mighty One has done great things for me – Holy is His name.” Luke 1:49                  Journalist, Student or Secretary

I can still see Miss Reed, my junior English teacher with her silver bun bopping up and down as she instructed us on the importance of learning the Punctuation Guidelines. I’m afraid she would take back the “A” I miraculously earned that six weeks if she knew I was no longer applying Punctuation Guideline #2.  I remember writing the punctuation rules word for word in order to pass her class. I have been compliant for the past 41 years and have followed rule #2 “capitalize a proper noun” without fail; however at age 58 I’ve become defiant and I’m a little “d” debi now.

Yesterday, as I signed my name at the end of an email, it appeared “Debi” as always, but for some reason I changed one little letter and became little “d” debi. Another remembrance floated through my brain of my Lectio Divina practice the previous day. While reading Luke 1:49, “for the mighty One has done great things for me-Holy is His name”, thoughts flooded my mind. While journaling  I went off on a tirade  concerning my forgetfulness and the true source of my many blessings and reminded myself that it was not satan who led me astray, but my refusal to listen to God’s guidance. It was at this point that I decided satan’s name didn’t deserve to be capitalized like God and Jesus. He was the epitome of sin so I scratched out the big “S” and sanctimoniously wrote a lower case “s”. Then I proceeded to sign my letter to God like always, capital “D” Debi. Uh oh, “holy is His name”, not my name. He deserves a big “G”.

Big “D” debi just gets in the way of Jesus’ plans for her. Big “D” debi doesn’t give God credit for His abundant blessings. Big “D” debi worries about her unborn grandson, instead of lifting him up to the Father of us all. So, I’m becoming a little “d” debi who lets God plan her days, praises Him for her abundant blessings and prays each day for the new life that will be joining our family in June. It takes a lot less energy to be a little “d” debi and let God handle my life. How about you, do you feel defiant today?

Points to Ponder:

1. Do you truly believe God’s name is holy? Have you witnessed anything to make you think so?

2. Name some mighty things that have happened in your life. What /Who made them mighty?

3. What can God handle for you?

Pray with Me:

Dear Handler of my life,

Your name is Holy, and I am just one of your followers. Help me remember Your mightiness as I give it all to you.

Your defiant follower