I see Your hands, not white and manicured, but scarred and scratched and competent, reach out - not always to remove the weight I carry, but to shift its balance, ease it, make it bearable. Lord, if this is where You want me, I'm content. No, not quite true; I wish it were. All I can say, in honesty, is this: "If this is where I'm meant to be, I'll stay. And try. Just let me feel Your hands." - Eddie Askew