There is something about looking at someone's hands. They seem to tell a story about the individual that no other part of the body can. On close inspection, you can see the lines or scars that went previously unnoticed. And of all the body parts, the hands seem to be the most unable to resist the wear of time and beating that we put our body through.
The photo that follows contains hands that can tell many stories. Stories of prayer, travel, child-rearing, preaching, counseling, and a battle with cancer, just to name a few. These are the hands of my grandfather-in-law. They are now at rest, but when the picture was taken he was in the midst of that battle previously mentioned. But it was Christmas and he was with family. I know he was tired. He took a few more naps than usual and there was a clear expression on his face of the exhaustion felt in his body. But all his sons were home and nothing was going to keep him from experiencing one of his final family gatherings.
I took this picture as he was sitting in an armchair, surrounded by the family he loved. It was low-light, but luckily his hand was directly under a lamp. It was simply one of those photos that you were glad to capture and knew would be looked at for years to come.
07 September 2008
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