Lets talk about hands.
Personally, I believe hands are quite beautiful. Whether they are old and arthritic or soft and smooth. Don't even get me started on toddler's hands.....sticky and often dirty, so full of promise, they are plain wonderful.
Last night, at Bible study, I had my hands held open during a song and a thought entered my head.
I know, I know. I was SUPPOSED to be focusing on the song. Instead, as I stared at my hands in my lap, I started thinking of all the things my hands have held.
Heaven knows I have held enough cups of coffee.
way to spell my name, Starbucks....
Communion, paper, my husband's hand, a camera, newborn babies, puppies. Oh, what a wonderful list!
My daughter's hairbrush while brushing their hair. Cameras, snacks, books from the library in giant stacks.
brave girl camp
Paintbrushes. Bottles and tubes of paint, stencils, pencils, pens, markers, scissors, crayons, chalk, glitter, soldering irons....
A friend's hand when she is hurting, my children's heads when they were sick, my mother's face as she was dying.
My hands have been clenched in fear, anger and frustration.
They have thrown things, covered my face, slammed doors and banged the steering wheel of my car.
I have even been known to write a thing or two ON my hands.
Here is what I noticed last night as all these thoughts went racing through my head.
My hands are always FULL
The thought has crept in over and over the last several months to live with
"HANDS HELD OPEN."
As I ponder what this means, what it might look like, a lot of emotion arises.
For one, it means a lack of control.
Not something I am particularly fond of.
It can also mean waiting for someone or something to fill my hands.
Will I trust that God will fill it with good?
If, as it has been in the past, ('cause sometimes life is just that way)
filled with difficulties,
will I leave them open for Him to fill them with strength?
Will I leave them open in surrender?
Surrender ranks right up there with lack of control.
O.K., so I have some IS-SUES.
On a daily basis, open hands means waiting.
Letting the filling of my hands, or my day, come at it's own pace.
Here's a good one:
I have a tendency to clench my hands while I sleep.
This results in my waking in the middle of the night (for various reasons) and when I do, I have to slowly and painfully open my hands. Sometimes, when as I fall back asleep, I purposely lay them flat so they stretch out and find relief.
(ahem. did I mention I have Is-ues? Good. Just checking.)
SOMEtimes, before I fall asleep, I make a conscious decision to keep my hands flat and open.
I do this at the beginning of the day and not just before I fall asleep
Maybe even somewhere in the middle of the day, when the pressures mount or I can't seem to make a decision? Open them, lay them palms up, with nothing filling them and...
I'll get back to you on this one.