God’s Palms

“I will not forget you!” God.
Isaiah 49:15.

Stop for a moment and look at your palms. The lines you see are called palmar flexion creases. The three deep, prominent creases should look familiar to you since you were born with them—they were formed at around the 12th week of gestation. The creases allow the skin to adapt when our hands are active—stretching, folding, or fisting. Without them, our skin would sag.

What would we see if we looked at God’s hands? Figuratively, according to a song we’ve sung since the 1920s, we would see the whole world.

Literally, would we see creases like ours? We may, since we are made in His image.

When we meet Him, I expect we will see the nail holes that make it possible for us to stand in His presence.

But if God extended His hand to us today, palm up, we would see something for our eyes alone—our name. Right there, “Barbara Higby” is prominently engraved on God’s palms. My name, and yours, is inside His grasp, present during every God activity. Read it for yourself in Isaiah 49:16:

See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me.

Our names are etched on His palms—permanently, no ball point pen or felt-tip marker. He sees our parameters, our beginning and our end, our restrictions and freedoms, what lies before us and the experiences of our past.

When God opens His hands, He sees us, our name and the life He created.

Not for Women Only!

As you can see, men are also reading Finding Hope. In full disclosure, I admit they are family—grandson Cole, husband Rich, and son Shane. But, men and women alike, you can get your personal copy here: Finding Hope, 65 Meditations for a Broken Heart.

Thank you, my friends, for your likes and encouraging comments, with special thanks to those who shared my last post on Facebook.

Today I offer you a second sample meditation—DAY 21.

Lord, I’m Miserable

Record my misery; list my tears on your scroll—
are they not in your record?
Psalm 56:8

I knew my enemies were the unseen forces of evil, but some days I felt they were flesh and blood. Those who taunted me had names—Fear, Doubt, Self-pity, Anger, Defensiveness. When I listened to them I became cynical and afraid. As hopelessness took up residence, I internalized my thoughts and isolated myself from others. Thankfully, God saw me in my misery. Amazingly, He recorded it!

He took note of my tears and listed them on His scroll. Another wording reads, “Put my tears into Your bottle” (NKJV). The very idea defies comprehension. I am humbled to think of God gathering my tears and saving them in His bottle. He notices my pain and comes alongside me.

The Lord shares my sorrow and His tenderness comforts me. He knows my thoughts, doubts, and fears. He doesn’t need my faltering explanations—He understands the depths of my heartache and the extremity of my emptiness. He sees my broken places and my missing parts. As I surrender my anxiety and confide in Him, my sadness moves from its dark place into His light. My self-pity is deprived of sympathy and the heaviness lifts.

My sorrowing friend, we can go to Him because He loves us completely and cares for us deeply. Our tears are not unnoticed. Our Father has recorded them because we are precious to Him. He is our safe place.

Let’s agree with the psalmist, “In God I trust and am not afraid” (Psalm 56:4).