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A long time ago He lived, your Christ and mine. What were His hands like?
The Bible does not give answers to such a question, but let your imagination give you some answers.
The hands of Christ? Certainly they were not those of a bully, administering a beating to someone weak and defenseless.
The hands of a thief? Not our giving, forgiving, loving Jesus. The hands of a carpenter making sure a job was always finished in proper fashion and on time? I have no doubt.
Hands helping Him to climb a mountain, there to be tempted.
Hands healing the sick and maimed. Hands reaching out with compassion toward a woman of adultery. In
an upper room, His hands washing the feet of the Disciples and then
gently holding the bread as He said to them, “This is my body which is
broken for you.” And holding the cup as He said, “This is my blood spilled for you.” And by those hands, one day He hung on a cross.
Why is all of this not enough to move the lives of each who worships Christ?
Because religion, for some is an experiment, rather than an experience. A wrestling match within, without conclusion.
He was going to be all a mortal man would be – tomorrow.
No one should be better or kinder than he – tomorrow.
The greatest of workers, this man would be – tomorrow.
But the fact is he died, and faded from view.
And all that he left here
when living was through,
Was a mountain of things he intended to do – tomorrow.
Have you ever felt a deep and wondrous longing to do something more?
Be something more? And then, as you began to count the cost, you became afraid so you simply lay down until the thought finally went away?
The next time you have that feeling, treat the world better by treating yourself better.
Be
willing to sow each marvelous, positive, God-inspired mental meandering
so that you can reap a habit and then a character and finally a destiny
of which both you and your Lord can be proud.
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