I’m not exactly sure when I became a “handkerchief guy,” but that’s what I am. Nearly everywhere I go I carry a carefully folded white cloth in my pocket. I suppose this might have been initiated when my growing collection of whiskers made the flimsy tissues disintegrate into my mustache. Unaware, I would then proceed through my day, only to be horrified when I caught a glimpse of my upper lip in a mirror… often hours later. Enter cotton. Enter solution.
With the introduction of grandkids into our lives, I’ve added to my handkerchief inventory. With the escalation of potential noses to wipe and tears to swab a reputation has been earned. When the tears flow; when the pain swells; when the heart breaks… Pops has the handkerchief.
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)
But my handkerchief is just a preview; a sample; a snapshot of what awaits all those who embrace God as their Father.
When I open my handkerchief for action I don’t chastise or criticize; I wipe. When I’m swabbing tears or blood or… I’m not critiquing or coaching; I’m wiping.
I don’t give my handkerchief away; I don’t hand the cloth to my grandchild; it’s my hand that holds the comfort; it’s my hand that offers relief.
Proximity matters. I can’t wipe without being close.
God shows us the way. It is His hand that will wipe away every tear. It will be His voice that assures us that death will be no more. It will be His handkerchief that carries the residue of my life.
One last time. Our grief will subside. Our pain will disappear. At the hand of our Father. Into the handkerchief of my King.
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