THE GIFT OF HIS HANDS

This, has always been one of my favorite depictions of the Savior. The Hand Of God by Yongsung Kim.

It is the Home Screen background on my phone.

It is has several places of honor inside my room.

It has been a gift I have bestowed upon someone else.

And, just a few years ago, it was a present given to me three seperate times in the space of one year. (If you'd like to read that post, click here.)

I don't normally possess the skill of analyzing art in great depth, (just ask my college roommate) but the incredible details of this piece speak to such different parts of my soul.

It is spoken of often, Peter walking upon the water, his faith sometimes unfairly questioned as he sinks beneath the depths (Matt 14:27-31). I say unfairly, because I have so often been in Peter's place.

Tugged into the sea, thrashed about by the current, struggling to gain purchase, and looking up in a desperate plea for aid and relief. I love that Kim painted the image from this persepective, the perspective of someone who feels as if they are drowning, because that is so often how we feel.

This entire year has been one where I've barely been keeping my head above water. What with the book rejections, personal losses, and another year around the sun with few accomplishements, 2022 has felt like a complete and utter bust. Treading and just trying to forge ahead and make it through to the other side of all of these trials, I was floundering, wavering, and exhausted.

Now, donning a boot on one foot, a scratch in my throat, and in ache in my chest due to something besides the sickness that hit at the absolute worst time, it appeared to me that things could not get any worse.

They could.

Drowning and weighed down by all my worries, I could no longer fight against the waves. In anguish, I begged my Savior for aid.

And He sent it.

Something about the time, the place, and the demands of the person on the other end of the line wrangled the truth out of me. The "I'm fines", and "I'm doing great. How are yous?" were choked out of my throat by barely-contained tears. Barely contained that quickly turned into full on sobs and a dump-truck's load of information that I had been attempting to shove down for the last 365 days.

It all burst out of me like a broken dam. Every heartache. Every burden. Every sorrow and pain and crushed hope. It all came rushing out in a torrent, and in the aftermath of a now even more sore throat and tired eyes, something remained.

Well, two things. Air. The ability to breathe. Releasing it all had finally allowed me to push to the surface, breaking through and swallowing big gulp-fulls of relief.

Secondly, hope. Long after the conversation ended, when laughter had been shared, my friend's ear had been talked off, and assurances has been given that things would be good again, hope remained.

None of the problems had been resolved. They were still there lurking, threatening to push me back under, but I had a newfound buoyancy. The sun was shining down on my face and I could feel it. It might have been camouflaged while I was beneath, but now it was bright and warm and reminding me that it would all work out.

Because He is in control.

I love that you can just see a touch of a smile on His face in the image. It's another reason why I believe the questioning of Peter's faith is unwarranted.

The Savior does not ridicule our quivering faith when the seas of life overtake us. He does not watch us struggling, wondering if we will be able to resurface on our own, or even if it would be worth the effort to help, seeing as we sometimes lose trust in Him.

No, love highlighting every aspect of His features, the Savior's outright devotion is revealed to us. Though the storms may overtake us or our own actions may send us under, just the fact that we are willing to reach out to Him, is enough. Just a tender hearted prayer, uttered through a froggy throat and tear-filled eyes, is enough. Just the smaller belief that He can help us, is enough. Enough to bring a smile to His face.

As such, He pulls us out of the depths. He fills us with the will to continue on. He reminds us that hope remains in each new day that rises. No matter how far we have sunk, what new lows we think we have reached, He will always be there to yank us out. He will always be there to help us gain our footing once more.

And more often than not, He does that through others.

As President Dieter F. Uchtdorf stated in his talk, "You Are My Hands", from the April 2010 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are His hands. He trusts us to reach out and help recover those who have fallen into the water. And, as was proved by my friend that Sunday afternoon, no matter how much we sometimes question it, we are capable hands.

Christ's love is His gift to us, and one of the ways He shows that love is through those He places in our path. Charity, the pure love of Christ.

Captured perfectly in the painting, I have felt myself lifted out of my despair by many, many different versions of His hands. It was a gift I needed this Christmas Season, and pressed the truth to my heart again, that He knows. He knows us. He knows what we need. He is aware of our situation, and though sometimes it feels He has abandoned us to the sea, He never has. He is mighty to save, mighty to help, mighty to send, and mighty to love.