Hands

You have all heard the saying that "you never know how important something is until you no longer have it". This is especially true of your hands. Over the years my hands have painted, nursed, prepared food, cleaned, gardened, sewn, written, and performed so many more funtions. They have served me well, perhaps too weel. I have taken them for granted and now they are worn out. The joints are riddled with arthritis and they are in pain. I can not even hold a tooth brush in the normal way. The joints of my right forefinger especially are swollen and I am unable to apply pressure of any kind. Just another sign of age. Yes, I have iced it. Yes, I have taken anti-inflamitory medication. They make the condition tolerable, if not functional. But using the hands without that particular finger is at best, doable. It is awkward to say the least. It's something of a claw effect, not very dainty or efficient.

I'm sure you have heard someone older express the thought that getting old is not for sissies. Today I heartily concur. And while I expect to spend many hours making comforters and doing long-overdue mending when my revamped sewing room is completed, I also expect that the simple act of threading my machine will take some innovation. Don't expect any hand sewn applique or beading.

Please pray that this newest flareup of arthitis will be a temperary setback to long awaited pleasures. Seems Satan always has to throw in a bit bit of pain to offset our joy.