A Mom’s Touch – By Liz Parker


It’s been a long day of running around town, and my youngest daughter Mia begins to cry in the car on the way home. We only have one more stop, but she’s obviously had her fill of errands for the day. As I reach back to her car seat and offer her my finger to hold, she immediately stops fussing. Aha! I have a new “strategy”! All she wants is Mommy’s touch.

I gently stroke the top of Mia’s hand, and within seconds, she is calmly sleeping. No more tears – just peace. So, forgetting the last errand, I drive one-handed the rest of the way home, careful not to let go of that tiny finger that has such a tight grip on my own.

Since that day, I’ve come to realize that many times all I need to do is offer Mia one small touch, and she’s okay. I glance at the hands that offer Mia motherly comfort, and they begin to look seriously familiar. Are these my mother’s hands?! The dry cuticles from too much cleaning and too many dishes, the chipped or broken nail from whatever happened, and the small wrinkles beginning to form (a sure sign of my age!)…these are my mother’s hands!

These same hands that comfort, wipe away tears, blow noses, and hold others tightly were once tiny as well…very much like the little hands I now hold. I remember the many times my mom put her hands on me in love, correction, prayer, praise, encouragement, support, and guidance. She picked me up, wiped my tears, and held me gently. This touch of love is one that only a mother has – and one that only a mother understands how to use.

The hands of my mother were passed down to her by my Granny. My Granny, too, once touched me in a way that only a mother or grandmother could – in a special way she may never fully realize. When I was pregnant with Mia, my Granny came to visit for the summer. She was approaching 90 years old, so I cherished every opportunity to spend one more day with her. This particular visit, she sat on the pew next to me in church as we listened to our pastor speak of the “touch” of older generations and what it means to pass on a legacy of blessing to one’s children. In the middle of the service, Granny gently reached over and laid her hand on my pregnant belly. She closed her eyes and blessed the child I was carrying. I looked down to see her curved fingers and wrinkled hands, spotted with age and sun damage. Without a word, she sweetly smiled and went back to listening.

At that moment, I realized the gift God has given me in the legacy of godly hands. Granny didn’t think twice about reaching out and sharing her touch with my child, even before she was born! The hands of my Granny have beautifully touched me, and because of that, my children will be forever blessed. I could only be so blessed to have the same touch as the generations of caring hands that – before me – have held our family close. It is my prayer that my hands be just as loving and caring as those that were placed on me.

God, please bless these hands so that when I lay them on my children, it will only be out of love and respect. Let me offer my hands to You, Lord, that they may serve You all the days of my life. Let my touch be gentle, caring, and loving – yet uncompromising. Enable me, Lord, to handle the hearts of my children just the way You would touch their hearts. Let my children touch more lives than I have. Thank you, Lord, for the hands that touched my life, and those who touched hers…for they have been Your hands.

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