of sharing berries with those who are unable to reach the woods and pick for themselves. Not to mention the wonderful bragging rights when I come off the mountain with a gallon or two of that precious goodness.
As I surveyed my hands during a recent berry excursion it struck me that I know someone who also had stained hands at one time, Jesus. I get my stained hands by enjoying what God has so richly provided, but Jesus was given His stained hands to lovingly provide for me what I needed most of all.
The day Jesus died was a long and painful day in many ways. He had enjoyed a season of celebration with His close friends the night before. Then in a garden, He spent the night praying as the burden of what was to come weighed down on Him. He was betrayed and abandoned in a matter of hours by those closest to Him. He was given over to ruthless people who thought it best to beat and mock Him. This is where Jesus’s hands begin to take on the purplish-red hue of bruises and blood. Those very hands would spend the rest of the day carrying a cross that they would then be nailed to.
I often think of the price Jesus paid for me so that I can have access to God and all of His goodness. Because of Jesus’ stained hands, I can have the assurance that my sins are forgiven. I have the freedom to learn to live like Christ. I have the right to be called a child of God. I have heaven to look forward to. Even if the cost was painful, Jesus saw this as a labor of joy to set us free from sin and death. Because of His stained hands, I have learned to be grateful for the abundance that God has provided, even in the simple pleasure of picking huckleberries.
Our staff is voluntold each week and with grace they share their thoughts.