So I’m not much for “blogging” or keeping a journal, but something happened a couple weeks ago that I wanted to share. It happened a couple of weeks ago in our church’s nursery Sunday School Class. (No, I am not the teacher, or a parent, etc. – I take my niece back.) Anyways, back to the topic at ‘hand’…yes, pun intended! :)
Anyhow, I was sitting at the side of the room with another girl who has kids in the class. We were just talking between ourselves while the kids were listening to their teacher read the story. One of the little boys in the class came over to the girl I was talking with and asked why she had something written on her hand. I had noticed it too, but it was clearly a note, a reminder for her, but in his 4 year old mind, it was out of the ordinary. She answered him by saying, “I can’t remember very many things so I had to write it down.” That was apparently, not a good enough answer because he continued by asking why she put it right there, on her hand? She told the boy, “because that’s the one place I will see it and remember to do it.”
Answer accepted!…Mr. Inquisitive 4 year old dropped it, went back to the table to do the craft and we kept talking.
As we continued our conversation, I couldn’t get the boy’s questions and her answers out of my head. It immediately made me think of a Bible verse. I’m not exactly sure of the location, but somewhere in Isaiah 49 (verse 16 or 17, maybe?) it says that we are engraved in the palm of His hand so that we will not be forgotten.
Now I don’t know about you, but that gives me goose bumps! That verse might mean something completely different to you, but to me, I like to think that my name is engraved right about the spot of one of those nail print scars. Notice the verse doesn’t say that we are “written” in the palm of his hand, but we are “engraved”. Writing can be washed away or faded so that it is unreadable, but to be engraved is forever, a permanent reminder.
I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I look at my hands throughout 1 day – I’m always doing something with my hands: tying a kid's shoe, pointing to the board or a child's paper, etc. (I guess that’s the reason your hand is such a great place for a reminder…you’re guaranteed to see it!) What amazes me is that whenever the Savior of the world catches a glimpse of His hand, he sees my name and thinks, “There’s Amy Rebecca Cox. One of the millions I died for. I remember her.”
