It being the 1
st day of December, I couldn’t think of anything to write until I looked down at my keyboard, and saw my hands. Instantly the saying “My hands are full” came to mind and I couldn’t help but think and contemplate about that saying and the meaning behind it. Through-out my lifetime, I have heard that saying over and over again with the connotation:
I’m too busy, I can’t help you right now, another time, maybe later, I can’t do it right now. All these sayings flooded my mind, and I couldn’t help but literally think, “Why in the heck did
this come to my mind?”
I then started to stare down at my hands and think of the many places they have been, what they have done, and so forth.
As I looked down at my hands, I remembered that from my childhood, these hands
loved, and I mean
loved to play with Barbie and Baby dolls. So yes, the secret is out, I was/am a girly-girl and loved the idea of being a mommy (playing with the baby dolls) or setting up my own house with miniature furniture and backdrops (playing with the Barbie dolls). The idea of being motherly was so appealing to me that little did I know, the hard work those hands would actually be doing, had I
really been a mother and wife.
Looking back on that memory, I can see now what my hands have handled, not very much – compared to my mother and grandmothers – but surely a glimpse of what there is to come with my little one now and continually growing family. I sure do appreciate the wonderful example of my mother for her hard work and constant love she has shown and continues to show through her hands. She is the perfect example of service, and my only example of what a mother should be, and how a mother should love, how when a wife is in need, she turns to her Heavenly Father from above. The hands of my mother are, scarred, cracked, rough and wrinkly, but they are filled with detail of her life, her hard work, her service, her love.
My hands are full: of appreciation for my mother and for the beauty she has helped me to see.
Not to mention, as I got older, playing the piano had become more than just a hobby, it became so much a part of me, that music/playing the piano and I were one in the same. I realized that practicing became want and I couldn’t help but crave to hear the things I was playing, creating and then later composing. My hands took a toll from the hours of playing I would do, the many songs I would memorize, just so I could get every note perfect, yet make it in my own style. My hands started to learn the keys, chords, chord progressions, etc. Later, my hands started to feel the pains of arthritis because of the positions my hands would be in while playing. I later learned that arthritis or not, sometimes it being painful or not, I was going to play and share the gift and talent Heavenly Father gave me, because I never realized how influential I had/have been on others through my music. While taking a song writing class at the Junior College here in Southern California, I wrote a love song the expressed some of the deepest feelings I would’ve loved to have felt, had I been in a relationship. I reached the climax of my song and with a loud applause from my audience; I had
never experienced applause in the middle of a song. I felt the the audience really felt what I was singing and playing, they understood the lyrics, and I felt that even though I had not experienced love in this chapter of my life, that the feelings I described had hit dead on true love, even without saying or mentioning the word
love. From this I learned that
My hands are full: of creativity to share with the ones I love and the world itself.
I know that during my single adult years, my hands have been many places, from performing, to serving, to leading music, driving friends, etc. They have been the only thing constant that allows me to give. They are what had started my life on the pathway to my true love. One night, I felt so sad and so out of the loop with everything, I felt alone. In every relationship I had been in, I was left bitterly scared with grief, filled with insecurity, disappointment and regret. My heart had been through enough, and I was tired of the choices I had made that made me feel the way I felt, and where it had led me. I simply took my hands, logged onto a social networking website and simply clicked on the boxes and typed the words that would describe my perfect man. I didn’t think it would work, but later on I tell close friends and family that I feel that Heavenly Father felt that much sad for me that night, that he didn’t want to see me in any more pain (relationship wise) so, he let only 3 profiles be displayed, 2 were obvious liars, and that was the test to see if I could weed those out – I passed by the way – and so I was left with one. I opened up the page and there he was; a handsome young man who at that very moment, touched my heart. We have now known each other for 1 year, 9 months and 3 days. We were official for 2 months and 16 days, engaged for 22 days, married for 1 year and 5 months today; but we have loved each other so much longer.
As newly-weds and any newly married couple, we have gone and continue to go through our ups and downs as individuals and a married couple, adjustments with both sides of the families, and adjustments with each other, but I have never doubted that I KNOW he is my eternal love and companion, I just always fear that he may think otherwise – don’t worry, he constantly reminds me that he doesn’t think otherwise and that he loves me more than anything. Throughout the short time we have been married, I have seen my hands grow to fit his. I’ve noticed that when we hold hands, they’re snuggled together just a little tighter, they’re held just a little longer, and they serve a whole lot more. In the relationship with my husband, I have noticed that
My hands are full: of love for my spouse and gratitude that for the first time, I have experienced true love from the one I love the most.
Motherhood: now entering this world of motherhood and becoming a new mother, I am awed at the simple beauties of every day. I seem to silently watch more than actively perform, I seem to be more tired than usual, but that it because every moment with my family is precious. My hands are in diapers, wipes, fitting head bands, changing clothes, wrapping and swaddling, holding, feeding, snuggling, and so much more, but I would never trade the joy that comes from what my hands do to be with my daughter.
My hands are full: of joy for the opportunity to serve someone who loves and depends on me, and always will.
My hands are full: of stories, experiences, sadness, joy, laughter, love and so much more. Life will always be life, but it will be that much more great if we realize that our hands will be filled with such good things along the way.
