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Lifting Up My Hands

by Debbie Allen

As a little girl, I was fascinated by a sculpture of a pair of praying hands, sitting on a knick-knack shelf above the couch I slept on each time I spent the night at my Grandma’s house. Something about the sight of  those hands brought comfort to me. Whether my sleepy eyes were tracing their outline in the blue of a moonlight hour, or recapturing their every detail in the brilliance of morning sunlight;  these folded hands seemed to speak a silent story to my little-girl heart.   Though, as a small child I was only allowed to touch them with a feather-duster now and then; I now hold them in my own hands each time I sit down to write.  These Praying Hands continue to touch my adult heart to this day.  They sit on my writing desk now, and with every glance over at them; I am comforted by that same silent story I sensed being whispered into my heart as a child. Only now, those whispers speak louder to me. I believe those whispers to be the unending echoes of an unfathomable love story; a story meant for every heart to remember… forever. Let me show you what I mean.   

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“The Praying Hands”—from it emanates the unending echoes of an unfathomable, Love Story; a Story meant for every heart to remember…forever.”

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Nearly six centuries ago,  in a little town near Nuremberg, Germany;  two brothers, Albrecht and Albert Durer, lay in a  bed, crowded with other siblings; dreaming of their futures. Coming from a family of eighteen, their chances of getting a college education were slim to nothing. Their father already worked eighteen hours a day just to put enough scraps of bread on the table to feed them all.  Nevertheless, having an overwhelming desire to attend the prestigious, Academy School, in Nuremberg, to further develop their artistic talents; Albrecht and Albert devised a plan to solve their own dilemma.  They made a pact.  They would toss a coin.  The loser of the coin toss would go down and work in the nearby mines; and with his wages, support the other brother while he attended the Academy.  Then, after four years at the Academy were completed, the brother who won the coin toss would support the other brother in like manner. After Church one Sunday, those two brothers did toss a coin.  Albrecht won the coin toss and headed off to Nuremberg; and Albert headed down into the treacherous coal mines in support of his brother; as promised. 

Over the next four years, Albrecht was almost an instant success in his artistic endeavors. His etchings, oil works and paintings far exceeded most of his professor’s. The day he graduated from the Academy, he went back home to attend a dinner in his honor.  After the meal, he stood at the head of the table and raised his glass, proposing a toast in honor of his brother, Albert; for the years of sacrifice in the mines that had allowed Albrecht to fulfill his dreams. 

“ And now,” Albrecht exclaimed joyfully, “ It is your turn, Albert.  You can go to Nuremberg Academy and  I will take care of you!” *

But, much to the family’s surprise, Albert rose with tears in his eyes, shaking his head.

Raising his battered hands up close to his face, he spoke.

 “No, brother, I cannot go to Nuremberg.  It’s too late for me.  Look what four years of working in the mines have done to my hands.  Every finger smashed at least once and arthritis so bad I can’t even lift my glass to join in this toast; much less make delicate brush strokes on canvas or parchment.” *

As time passed, in honor of his brother and all he sacrificed for him; Albrecht drew Albert’s battered hands in great detail; palms together and gnarled fingers stretched heavenward.  He named his beautiful drawing simply, “Hands.”  But as time went on and the world fell in love with this great work of art, they renamed Albrecht’s masterpiece, “The Praying Hands.” Now, over 450 years later, Albrecht Durer’s most widely-known work of art remains his tribute of love to his brother, Albert… “The Praying Hands.”

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“Albrecht Durer’s sculpture of the Praying Hands is his reminder to the world that, “…no one—no one—ever makes it alone.” *

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It has been said that Albrecht Durer’s sculpture of the Praying Hands is his reminder to the world that, “…no one—no one—ever makes it alone.” *  But because of my fascination with this sculpture since childhood: I believe there is something much deeper involved here.  Every glance over at those ‘Praying Hands’ continues to unravel for me; the silent whispers still emanating from it. They are echos of the one-of-a-kind love and sacrifice made on another’s behalf. They speak to my heart of the hands that so willingly gave up his own life so that another might find a new life.  Hands willing to go the distance without ever counting the cost.  Hands broken and battered for the sake of a brother, though it cost him his own life.  But wait a minute.  We’re not just talking about Albert Durer’s story anymore…we’re talking about a reflection of the Life of Jesus.  The Hands that Loved and Sacrificed His own Life…so that another (you and I), could have a new life.  The Hands that Gave Their All, so that humanity might have it all.  And like Albrecht Durer’s sculpture of The Praying Hands, Jesus’ Hands are ever-reaching out into the world with a message etched deeply in the scars on the Palms of His Hands:

“My child…take hold of My Hand, for ‘no one—no one—ever makes it alone.“‘

(* The Story behind “The Praying Hands” AfterHoursInspirationalStories)

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PRAYER: Dearest Heavenly Father, “The Praying Hands” sculpture is such a beautiful earthly reflection of what has been done for us by Your own Heavenly Hands.   I still seek the solace of those Praying Hands on my desk.   When I was a child spending the night on my Grandma’s couch; even then, I believe You were drawing my eye to those Praying Hands…teaching my spirit where to look to find comfort; whether in darkness or in the daylight. Though I am not a child anymore…I am still a child of Yours.  I still remember what You’ve taught me.  For this reason, I’m looking for the outline of Your Hands, even in this darkness that seems to be descending on us as a people and a Nation. An army of evil seems to be marching against us!  In the words of King Jehoshaphat of old…I cry out “For we are powerless before this vast number that comes to fight against us. We do not know what to do, but we look to You.” (2Chron.20:12 CSB). Give us the vision we need to see Your Hand, even as the darkness thickens.  Grant us wisdom and discernment to act and react in a manner worthy of the life you sacrificed on our behalf.  Your Truths ever before us…keep our minds alert and help our hearts to remain steadfast in our pursuit of righteousness in this dark time.  Protect us Father, for even with our hands in Yours, the wars all around us may rage on…but they will not defeat us! May we persist in praying until we prevail in prayer (Ephesians 6:18 CSB).  Enable us to keep a firm grip on your Heavenly Hands, remembering that “no one—NO ONE—ever makes it alone.”    IN JESUS NAME, AMEN