We were invited to neighbors for dinner last evening. Before we ate, the six of us joined hands in prayer. It’s interesting that the island, though physically isolated from the mainland, is a place of hugging and hand-holding, as if human contact becomes more important the further one moves from other people. The contact of another hand in mine deepens the impact of prayer, connecting me with those beside me, reminding me that we are all one body in Christ. The fewer people I see, the more I value their touch. I thank you, Lord, for the strength of human touch. Your hands healed the sick and ended suffering, reaching out to others. May my hands, too, reach out and bring loving healing and strength to all whom I touch. Make my hands your hands, I pray. Amen.
I pick up a handful of white sand on the beach, and let its grains drift through my fingers. This coarse sand, with its impurities removed, is the source of
