Have you ever stopped to think about what you do with your hands?
And I don’t mean what you do when you’re holding a pen, opening a box or making hand gestures when you speak.
I mean, when you’re just ‘being’ – with your thoughts.
What position do your hands naturally sit in?
A friend once told me after studying my hands, that if I was to use movement to express myself – it’d usually be in the form of ‘fists’.
Because I’m someone who enjoys a sense of power, feeling strong and having control.
And he was right. I liked knowing that if I held onto something tightly; a plan, idea, vision, it would come alive.
The idea of having life together fascinated me. I loved chasing it. Fuelled by the theory that ‘if I try hard enough, everything will be as I plan it to be’.
The past year especially… has given me enough ‘L’s’ to hit me with reality and recognise how little control I have.
I often found myself asking:
“God…why?”
“Why me?”
“God, what now?”
At my career, relationships, finances…
The answer is rarely ever apparent, immediately. And for a while, my heart was restless.
But over a number of experiences, He’s helped transform my way of thinking to become more fluid. More accepting of changing circumstances. More trusting of future promises.
Even while navigating a pandemic.
While feeling like an acrobat jumping hoops of fire, I’ve learnt that the ‘DIY’ approach to life, leaves you burnt out, hopeless and exhausted.
But the ‘DIWG’ (do it with God) approach, actually allows you to draw strength from a place beyond human limitations.
In Hebrews 11:1, it mentions that ‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’
I know we’re not at the start of the year, but each day is a chance at starting over again. At doing things differently and starting anew.
For the rest of the year, I want my faith to challenge me to use my hands differently. And if you’re reading this and are up for the challenge – then this means you too.
The challenge to have one hand holding tightly onto aspirations and working on dreams… and the other with open palms, leaving room for God to move.
WRITER: Pauline C. Escano