Reflective Moments with Angela February 2022

By Sister Marietta Wethington

During the holidays – long past now – I was watching a special program. In this episode, one character tells another that the hands of God are often found at the end of our own arms.

That touched me, and I mused about the hands of God in the person of Jesus. What did they do? They blessed, touched, healed and served. Are your hands and mine able to do those things? I believe they are.

When we offer the handshake of peace at liturgy, we are blessing another. Parents who sign their children with a cross on their forehead before bedtime are blessing them. A gentle pat on the back is often the touch of encouragement and blessing that someone needs.

Sometimes people use their hands to abuse and harm another. When I see that or read about it, I am reminded to be gentle and caring. I never want my hands to abuse another.  I want my touch to be a healing one. Our hands heal when we take another’s hand in ours and pray for that person in a difficult situation.

Our hands serve when we visit a nursing home and feed a resident who is no longer able to feed oneself. Our hands serve when we prepare a meal for our family or deliver a meal to a shut-in who needs that help. Our hands serve when we open the door for a mother who is struggling with young children or for an elderly person who is using a walker. Our hands serve when we offer to go by the library and pick up reading materials for someone who finds that trip difficult. Our hands serve when we share our newspaper with a neighbor who cannot afford the subscription. Our hands serve when we sit with someone at the hospital who does not need to be left alone, doing the things the person cannot do for him/herself.

These are just a few of the ways I see our hands blessing, healing and serving. I’m sure you can think of many others.

Yes, God’s hands are often found at the end of our own arms.  

Reflection:

When have God’s hands been found at the end of my own arms? You may wish to spend some time journaling about those times.

Comments

  1. Margi Ling Johnstone

    Dear Sister Marietta—You were my 2nd grade teacher at Immaculate School. You may remember that I am a first cousin of Sr. Ann Patrice whom I visited with another cousin, Peggy (Leibfreid) Cummins this past summer where we were lucky enough to catch you at lunch. I want to thank you for the use of your hands to teach me—moving them across the chalkboard, placing them together to demonstrate hands of prayer, “slapping” (sorry, I can’t think of a less violent word to better describe) your right hand to your missal as a signal for the class to genuflect in perfect unison upon entering or leaving church. (So mind-blowing to me was the thunderous sound that came from that hand-to-book gesture.) I love following your articles. You continue to teach as your hand puts pen to paper (or move across computer keys) to share reflections. Much gratitude.

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