I awoke from my nap, lying still to inhale the peace and quiet. A little reading, a little contemplating. Then I noticed a hand. Whose hand was this . . . at the end of my arm? And when did it start looking so aged? Thinning skin, wrinkly-er than I remembered.

As I studied this hand, I thought, “Hands are amazing! Hands could never be the result of some chance formation in a random universe. No. Not this beautiful blend of bones, flesh, muscles, tendons, joints, four long fingers, and one stumpy thumb.

Think of what hands can do! Grasp, grab, stroke, squeeze, pet, point, pinch, punch, touch, give a ‘thumbs up’ or ‘thumbs down’, feel, make a fist, cross fingers, help a little one count, and so much more. Recalling my sign language skills, a single hand can communicate numbers, letters, fingerspell, and sign a great many words, including “I love you!”

If I turn my hand over, I see a palm. Palm and fingerprint markings unlike anyone else’s in the entire world. A God-created and God-drawn palm.

But the most amazing thing is that this palm, and the wrist it is attached to, has no hole or scar left by a seven-to-nine-inch-long heavy iron, square-edged spike. More than 2000 years ago, Jesus lovingly slid our hand aside and offered His on the crossbeam instead.

After His resurrection, Jesus showed the disciples His scars (John 20:20). And Jesus referred to us when He said, “[B]lessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed’” (John 20:29b).

This Easter, may we gaze gratefully at our hands, remembering the cost of our forgiveness and salvation, and praise God for sending His Son to die to reestablish His original plan, for all people to have a personal relationship with Him.