My father used to talk about trying to learn to go through life with his hands open — not holding too tightly to the people and the things that he loved, being willing to let them go of them if need be for their own sake or for the sake of the Kingdom, being ready at any moment to catch a blessing or a friend if either one came his way.
I thought of him and his idea of living openhandedly when you were talking about being open to following Lent wherever it is going to lead you. I could see you, and see myself, trying to unclench the fists that are a sign of our desire to be in control and of our insistence on marching directly to Zion — do not pass Go, do not collect much of anything along the way — rather than wandering along with the Spirit, along with the Israelites and the disciples for that matter, with our hands open just in case God sends some new thing our way.
“The one thing a clenched fist cannot do,” writes Frederick Buechner in The Sacred Journey, “is accept, even from le bon Dieu himself, a helping hand.”
And a clenched fist cannot catch any blessings either.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
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8 comments:
Thank you for this reminder. Yes, we MUST open our hands to give and to receive.
And thank you for your comment as well. We are glad you take the time to read us — and to write.
Namaste —
R. Benson
This reminded me of a poem I wrote last fall...Thanks for your writings. I appreciate them.
The Miracle of You
I come before Your altar today,
Bringing my sacrifices to You.
Humbly, I place back in Your hands
That which You have entrusted to me,
Ready to see it used for new purposes.
It feels good to open my hands,
Letting loose my fingers’ tight grasp,
Releasing the full potential of Your power.
I stand back, uncertain that it will be enough,
Yet knowing that in Your time,
These sacrifices will bring blessings to others,
Pressed down, shaken together and broken,
Shared in the community of You.
Lord, take my offering and use it.
Take my sacrifice and multiply it.
Bless my emptiness as I wait here today,
Expecting only the miracle of You.
Laura Alway
West Milton, OH
Thank you for reading our work, and for sharing your own — it is a lovely poem.
Namaste —
R. Benson
This Lent has been full of surprises, and unexpected healing. I expected to gaze full on at Christ's wounds. Never thought He'd guide my gaze back to my own. Just this morning, I got that same message to open my hands, cup them like a little bowl, and trust God to fill them with just what I need for healing today. More surprises, and more grace than I can stand.
Thanks for your newest book, Robert. You were a ministering angel in my wilderness.
Much love,
claudia mair burney
Thank you for reading us, and for writing to us. I am glad that something of my story resonated with the story your Journey seems to be telling you these days.
Namaste —
R. Benson
Wonderful, Robert! Reminds me of lines from William Stafford's poem "Open Your Hand":
“nobody’s voice / can find so tiny a message
as comes / across your hand”
There's no message until you open your hand.
You remind me that Freud once said, 'Everywhere I go, I find that a poet has been there before me.' It seems to have happened here too. Yet again.
Thanks for stopping by and for the note and for the poem.
Namaste—
R. Benson
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