I Love Shaky Hands

Once each month, Lebanon Road is responsible for a worship service at a local assisted living home. What makes this home unique, however, is that the vast majority of the residents are members of the Lord’s Church. Each month, 15 or so will gather in a nice activity room to worship God. It is always a joy to be with them.

Sometimes I preach, while other times I lead singing. Most of the time, though, I am just there to worship and be with these aging saints. I might lead a prayer or pass the communion, but the experience of being with these men and women always lifts my spirit.

Yesterday was one of the days where my family just “showed up.” We went to do whatever needed to be done, so I helped pass the communion. (As a sidenote, Turner led one of the prayers. I was so proud of him!) As happens each Lord’s Day in thousands of locations, the trays were passed around and Christians ate the bread and drank the fruit of the vine.

At a place like this, however, we always hold the trays in front of each person who partakes, because some simply cannot pass the trays, especially the large tray of juice. Most of the time, as I hold it there in front of them, I look down or away, so that these Christians can have that moment, communing with God.

Yesterday, though, my eyes were fixated on hands. I just kept watching person after person–Christian after Christian–take the bread and then the cup of juice and move it to their lips. I watched as hands which shook brought this special meal ever so slowly toward their mouth. Some may have been shaking from nerves. Others probably shook due to some malady.

But I could not take my eyes off of the hands.

Here are Christians who could spill grape juice all over them. And, sometimes, they do spill a drop or two on their clothes. That does not stop them, though. They know that not only is the communion a command, they know it is special and sacred. They wouldn’t miss it!

One of these days, my hands will probably shake. If the Lord blesses me with a long life, there might come a time when from weakness, nerves, or illness, my hands are not as steady as they are now. The day may come where even taking the Lord’s Supper becomes a bit of a chore.

If and when that day comes, I pray that my shaking hands will still be bringing the body and blood of my Lord to my lips so that I may commune with Him.

Praise God for the shaking hands of these precious saints. They taught me quite a lesson about steadfastness and faith.

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Photo credit: Lisa Edmonds on Creative Commons

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