My Daddy is a joiner by trade
and he used to spend all day,
every day,
working with his hands.
And yet despite this,
the palms of his hands
were always really soft.

I used to love holding my Daddy’s hand
when we would go out
for a walk
because my Daddy’s hands
were always warm
and soft
and when I held my Daddy’s hand
I felt safe.

During Mass this evening
into my head popped the phrase
about God holding us
in the palm of His hand.
I was struck by the thought
of how soft and tender
the palm of God’s hands would be,
just like my Daddy’s hands.
Nestled in the palm of My God’s hands
I can feel safe, secure
and cosy.
In those hands,
so powerful
and yet so gentle,
I can rest, reassured,
knowing that My God will provide me
with everything that I need.

Then I smile as I remember
that my Daddy,
with the big, soft hands,
who loves me so much
and who made me feel so safe
on my childhood walks
used to spend all day long
working with wood,
just like Jesus!

© Claire Murray, 30th August 2014