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Touching hands, touching youTuesday, December 27, 2016
1 John 1:1-2 When I was younger I played the piano. For several solid grade school years I went every week to the only nun I knew for lessons, and she was wonderful. Very patient with me, with my hands and with my heart. But then I became older and left the childish things and lost my piano touch. Mother Mary, come to me. I want it back again. Jesus, touch my hands and let me see. My hands want to be used. I love to touch someone when I pray for them. My hands get warm. Occasionally I get to help one of our grandkids with a splinter. It feels right to me to hold my hands still and move them in just the right way. When words fly out of the keyboard onto a computer screen, my hands rejoice! My fingers can scramble around a guitar and somewhat lovely sounds come out. But what I really look forward to are the sounds of the keys, the black and white keys, the piano man's song in the morning. "This is the day that the Lord has made!" My hands want to learn that song again. I remember the 4-H Pledge which I recited at the opening of each monthly meeting. "I pledge my head to clearer thinking, my heart to greater loyalty, my hands to larger service, and my health to better living, for my club, my community, my country and my world. I think better and see better when it starts in my hands. At the end of today's text John said, "I write this so that my joy may be made complete." He wanted his listeners to rejoice like him. And ... he was glad to be using his hands. It felt good. Awaken all our senses, Lord. Such a gift you've given us, not just for us to use but also to enjoy! Thank you for my eyes and my ears and my hands. We know you better when we touch you, whether it's the skin of a peach or the skin of a baby like Miles or the wrinkled skin of a wise old man. You inhabit. You are there on the surface of things, and then as we go deeper you are there. Beauty proclaims your presence, and everything is beautiful. |