In God’s Hands

I was wheeled into the surgery room for a hip replacement. While I was not very apprehensive about the surgery, I did not take for granted that the procedure would be an easy in-and-out event. I knew that one of the next steps of the surgery team would be to sedate me so I could count on going off into what would seem to be nowhere.

Before I slipped into la-la-land, I gave myself into the hands of God asking for a successful surgery. As I did so, I saw God’s hands open to receive me. Unexpectedly, I also saw many hands around God’s, palms open to receive and support me. I knew whose hands they were. Many people had assured me of their prayers for whatever would be for my good during the surgery and rehab following it. I also knew the hands of the surgery team were some of my key supporters.

When I came back to consciousness, I noticed the action of many hands—taking blood pressure readings, checking to see if I was warm enough, giving me sips of water, standing at attention as I stood and walked a few steps an hour after surgery—all done with a gentleness that respected my vulnerable situation. I recognized God’s hands at work through the hands of people around me doing their everyday service to patients.

Other hands continued the service when I moved to rehab at Country Manor a few miles away. They served meals, brought me ice water, closed and opened the blinds on my windows, pushed my wheelchair, helped me balance with a walker during physical therapy, and brought me ice packs during the night—all tasks that were part of their daily work while being key supports of my comfort and healing. I knew God’s hands were continuing to care for me through these ministers of service.

I have now returned home to Saint Scholastica Convent in St. Cloud. More hands received me, many doing the same services I received in the hospital and rehab. These services have continued to be marked with respect, care and challenges to go beyond skills I already had developed. They also brought delight; they knew me before and after surgery. Their rejoicing expanded my jubilation and gratitude. I sense that God’s joy was also jubilant. And God saw that it was all good.

God sees it is good when all of us move through our days with open hands to offer and receive care through gifts such as touch, words, facial expressions. Our hands will connect with others and what is good can become even better.

Mary Reuter, OSB