With These Fingers…Streams of consciousness Saturday.

It’s quite interesting that Linda’s prompt for SOCS which I just saw is ‘fingers.

Why I find it interesting is that I woke up this morning and as I was going through my Bible, for some reason my eyes fell on my hennaed hands and my first thought was how my hands and fingers resembled my dads own and for the fun of it, I took a picture.

I remember that as a child, I wanted my fingers to look like my mom’s own. Her fingers were dainty and nicely shaped, while mine took after my fathers own.

As the years went by, I grew to love mine as much as I love the man who passed on the genes.

His hands were hardworking and I believe that I inherited this trait. His hands were upright and as honest as could be and he had green fingers. Living things thrived in his care and plants bloomed generously in our garden.

I still remember, maybe I was four or less, his hands holding mine and guiding my fingers to scribble on my blackboard.

I remember vividly like yesterday as he walked me down the aisle and he took my hand with my beautifully painted fingers and placed them in my husband’s hands and in a gruff voice, he instructed my dear Himself to make sure that he looked after me.

Who knows, maybe I might equally have green fingers. I have moved around so much from one country to the other, that the last time I grew anything was several years back in my house in Nigeria. I look forward to the coming years to discover my green fingers.

Hold my hands in faith

And clutch my fingers tight

I will walk you through this journey

For you are not alone.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha


48 thoughts on “With These Fingers…Streams of consciousness Saturday.

  1. Oh my goodness Jacqueline this has brought tears to my eyes it is so beautiful. The saying at the end actually made my mouth open and take a breath, I love it so! I smiled through the tears of joy as I read this, as I could feel the love you have for your father as I do for mine and totally understand your gratefulness to have his hands. What a most touching post, once again your words are so poignant. I love all that you write, I’ll keep on saying it you are truly gifted!! Have the most marvelous day, go plant something… 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The henna is beautiful. I think I might have my grandmother’s hands. Parents were very long-fingered. Mine are not, piano playing was a stretch for me. Mine are more functional for hard work, endurance, and kneading dough. ☺

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Your hands are so pretty with all the henna. How wonderful to have hands like your Dad, a physical thing you can look at and always remember him. It’s funny how we get certain parts of our body and see them in certain relatives. When my Great Grandmother E passed away my family looked at her hands and my hands and said you have her hands. I did not know her so well, she died before I was fourteen. But I have this memory baking cookies with her when I was three or so. And of course her hands. Hope you are doing okay with your Dad’s loss. God Bless.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh gosh, I got teary at the end–this is a beautiful post of love for your father, and appreciation of your hands. I’ve been so critical of mine lately that you gave me pause–I forgot completely that often they are “God’s hands”, used to cook for others, or type encouraging notes. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for your words today, Jacqueline–thank you. Heading to early church shortly, and with a lighter heart.

    Liked by 1 person

I love it when you decorate my heart with your words..

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