By Wendy Choy-Chan
In the movie Beaches, there was one scene where Hillary got very upset because she had forgotten what her mother’s hands looked like. I remember when I watched that scene, I tried to think of my mother’s hands, and couldn’t really picture them. I wasn’t too upset then, for my mom was still alive and I assured myself that I had many opportunities to look at, touch and feel her hands. This thought faded days and weeks after seeing the movie, and I never made the conscious effort to remember her hands. And now that she is gone, I no longer have this opportunity.
This morning, as I was clipping my nails, that scene from the movie came back to me, and so did the images of my mother’s hands – cutting my nails when I was little, clipping the nails of my daughters when they were little, preparing and cooking dinner… Through these images of what she did with her hands, I could see and feel them. It’s funny, when I tried to picture her hands by themselves, I couldn’t, but if I picture her hands through what she was doing with them, they became so vivid in my mind.
Is this the same with God’s hands? True, I cannot literally see His hands, but I can picture them so clearly as I think back to how God has held me when I was sad, patted me on the back when I was discouraged, waved at me when I was lost, given me a thumbs up when I did a good job, and carried me when I was tired.
I cannot see His hands, but really, I can…
Wendy Choy-Chan came to North America from Hong Kong when she was 15. She is now a full-time mom and part-time student at Fuller Northwest studying for her MA in Theology. She lives with her husband and two daughters in Seattle, WA.