The Uselessness Of Hands

Am I alone in this, I wonder? When I go to church, when I start to praise the Lord, as I stand for the songs, I sometimes notice that my hands feel heavy. They just sit there. What do I do with my fingers, I ask myself. I’m too tall to comfortably rest my hands on the seats in front of me. My arms are just long enough to touch them. I end up with an odd fingertip-barely-touching stance. Then I put them in my pockets. On occasion I will cross my arms.

(I wonder at those times if the worship leaders notice and wonder why I’m glaring at them.)

Then I see it. Well, dream it would be more correct. I think of worshiping, really worshiping – which in my mind always seems to include raising both hands to the sky in a fierce upward movement – and then light comes and washes over me.

But the me I see this happening to is in front of the me that is watching the other me.

I’m really just dreaming about what I could be doing.

The dream is exhausting though. So I stop the dream and go back to watching the other people in the room (some of them actually living my dream).

My arms are heavy and not long enough.

What should I do with them, I wonder?


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