When I was a child my grandfather use to pray at every family gathering. Thinking back to those prayers still brings comfort to my soul.
When ever we were about to eat, my grandfather would ask the Lord to bless the hands that had prepared the food. I never really understood why he did it yet I never asked him either.
This morning I got thinking about those hands. The hands that had worked so hard to make me a fine meal. The hands that took time to comfort me when I needed it and time to point a finger at me when I needed that. These hands that were both soft and yet firm. These hands that were raised both praising the Lord and sending requests in my behalf.
I am thankful for those hands and for a Grandfather that knew just how important they were.