Markers and Makers: God gave me two hands: To clap in sweet praise, To have and to hold, To give or to keep, To rest and to work, To lead and to follow, To stir or to splatter, To have and to hope, To cup for more, To receive and give thanks, To hale hello and salute goodbye, To pen and to erase, To open or to close, To embrace beyond a handshake, one under and one over in a warm greeting, To throw or to catch, To wash and to dry, To commune in prayer, To cover or expose, To flatten in desperation, To sign with expression, To create with color, To point or to grace, To fold in expectation of God’s provision, To harden with emptiness,To touch with soft love, To dismiss or to welcome, To gather or to discard, To turn a page or close to book, To weave or to tangle, To shine or to smudge, To bless or to blast, To smooth or to crumble, To shape or to flatten, To guide or to lose, To catch and to release, To serve and/or sift, To stitch or to unravel, To hinder with hurt or to empower with encouragement, To press and to bandage. . .
Hands can seek to bless not impress.
Today, my two hands posture differently. One is open, palm up, full of fear, dripping, seeping between open, tired fingers. I force it to remain open, for I will not grasp what is NOT of God. Still it remains, full to over flowing, flame scorched around the edges. . .FEAR. . .We all have fear, to varying degrees. . .I received an honest, tender email prayer request a few days ago. It motivated me beyond my own fears to write to you again. Good for her, for reaching out!
My other hand, palm down searches out faith, hope and love in the dark of day. Feeling, pressing, stretching as far as it can reach, discerning by touch, what is worthy of my grasp. Once found, fingers curl around the tiny shape of goodness, and hold onto for dear life. My tight grasp, brings warmth within and there a presence that grows and glows from God’s Gifting. It holds what will one day, be worthy of offering to another. . . .We all want to offer what is worthy of giving. . .I’m not a poet and I know it but I care enough about expression to just try a bit and play with spaces and letters.
Face Turned Upward
Fields of Play Wake the Day
Sun Dappled Petals
Dance Round Circle Bound
Sunflower of Bloom Adorns the Room
No matter what we may feel at the moment, my hands, your hands are made to embrace and share His Sonshine.