The Praying Hands
Many of you would have seen the picture of "The Praying Hands", which is present in many Christian homes, but would almost certainly not have heard the moving story behind this popular picture. Here is the story.
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg , lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of the elder children, Albrecht and Albert, had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send ei-ther of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg . Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had en-abled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn.. Now you can go to Nurembergto pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ..no ...no ..no." Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks.
He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg . It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ...for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Pray-ing Hands."
The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone!
In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.
Romans 12:12: - "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."
I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Her2 positive breast cancer Dec. 27th, 2011. I had three large tumors in my left breast, I also had two positive lymph nodes and so with 5 positive biopsies I started my journey. In the beginning, it was a whirlwind and within a week, I was getting a port and preparing for chemo and the rush to save my life was on. Eight months later (August 20th) after stopping chemo (12 sessions) and not having surgery (a suggested double mastectomy) or radiation like my doctors wanted me to, I sat at Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Illinois and heard the results of a mammogram, MRI, Pet Scan and blood tests were that they could find no cancer in my body. The nurses and doctors were baffled and no one could explain how I could have had this terrible cancer and it was now gone, except for me. I said the Lord healed me through prayers, education, diet and supplements. I started this blog when I was first diagnosed, it is not just about on cancer, but my life and day-to-day thoughts and activities. There are suggested websites, blogs, videos and more here that I believe can benefit those dealing with cancer and those who want to be preventative. My hope is that you and yours will learn, be encouraged and healed. My family prays every night for those with cancer and that you will be not only be healed but that you will live long and happy lives.
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Love and Blessings on your journey.
Love and Blessings on your journey.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
The Praying Hands Story - Feb 22, 2012
I had read this before but someone sent this to me again yesterday, and I thought I'd share it with you. Oh how true it is.: Proverbs 3:6