These Worn Hands – by Zack Fugate

It is always interesting to me to find out how often the Lord moves us in directions that are vastly different from the starting point from which we took our first steps. As a young boy I would often sit and watch my grandfather talk with my sister about basketball and I distinctly remember a feeling of jealousy as he taught her how to grip the ball correctly.  I would look at his hands and watch the white take over his fingertips as he would grip the ball in a specific way on each black line so as to get the perfect amount of rotation when shooting a free throw. I would often wonder why he couldn’t just call me over to stand on the other side to learn as well. Long story short, my jealousy of their relationship hindered my ability to experience his love for my sister, which would years later mean more to her than likely anyone other than our Heavenly Father will ever know.

You see, much like my original plans for this Pondering, the Lord has brought me to a far different place than my initial footsteps in my childhood with regard to my relationship with my grandfather. Recently, those same hands that so eloquently taught how to grip a basketball were being held in my own hands. As I sat next to my grandfather listening to him talk about being keenly aware of his own mortality, I could not take my eyes off of his hands. They were worn, tired, uncertain, and yet they held on to me with a love that only those who have held onto the hands of a dying loved one would be able recognize. Perhaps I was especially attuned to this because my 9-year-old daughter was on her knees next to me with her hand on my knee admiring and cherishing her great grandfather trying to piece together his uncertainty. As a little boy, I did not know that I would someday sit next to such a strong man and ask him, “Grandpa, do you believe that you are going to heaven?”

When I asked him, his grip tightened on my hands revealing that familiar whiteness in his fingertips and he said, “You know, I am trying to be certain and make up for some of those things now.”

When I asked him, his grip tightened on my hands revealing that familiar whiteness in his fingertips and he said, “You know, I am trying to be certain and make up for some of those things now.” Nobody needed to ask him about the things he was referring to, because we all have those things. I was, however, confronted with a responsibility that never crossed my mind. At that moment, I was presented with the responsibility to be a witness of Christ’s death on the cross to my own grandfather. As such, with a heavy heart and obedience overwhelmed by love, I told my grandfather that he could be certain, as we all can! I gripped his worn hand, read various pieces of the Word with him, and I ended with this:

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.”-1 Peter 1: 3-5

As I ended with the last piece of scripture, he looked at me, squeezed my hand, and said, “Yeah…I want to go to heaven.” At that time I asked him if we could pray with him and with tears in his eyes he said, “Okay.” In all honesty, it was my daughter’s prayer for her great grandfather that took us all to the feet of Christ and as she cried, her hand found rest on his worn hand…a worn hand which may soon know the warmth and renewal that only Christ can guarantee.

Your brother in Christ,

Zack Fugate