My hand is open Lord.
When I opened my palm I let go of some pretty deep stuff…
Fear. The fear that if I don’t hang on tight enough, you may slip from my grip like a glass falling to the ground…shattered by the impact.
Fear that if I let it loose, it will fly away and leave me with nothing but the memory of how it felt to bask in your presence.
Shame. Never wanted anyone to know the depth of my insecurity. How deeply the scars of the past had impacted my here and now.
Uncertainty. What will happen to me now that I have opened my hand, and let the empty space take the place of everything I thought I needed?
Uncertainty. How will I manage, now that I no longer have that stuff to hold on to?
How did I ever work up the courage to let my hand come open?
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When I look into my open palm, and see the space there, the pink flesh with the “M” scrawled inside as though written by some unseen hand,
I wonder…what is it that you are putting into my hand now that I have released my ‘death grip’ on the stuff that I had held so tightly that the opening of my hand felt as strange to me as having the hand of another person attached to my body?
When I look back into the space that was left by the opening of my hand, I realize that in my hand, there is now space for God to work something new in me. When I look at the “M” inside my hand, I see the work of the Master and in my hand, He has put an “M” and the "M" stands for “MINE”
Thanks for Listening
