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The Hands of My Father
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My father’s hands were always dirty. As an auto mechanic, the grease and
grime of a thousand days never quite seemed to be erased. It was under his
nails...
3 days ago
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2 comments:
He is the only answer.
All day I have had a feeling, one which I didn't know what kind it was. Now looking at this picture, it's like one of those "DUH!" moments. Lately I've been missing out. Now I know why. Lack of Prayer!
It's amazing that a picture can be a message from God.
Thanks Lord! I am listening!
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