Frail Hands

This morning in worship we were talking about worship. We've been looking at the different areas and ministries of the church and this morning was "worship." Pastor mentioned that there is only so much talking you can do about worship before you just need to do it, so they left an extended period of time and space for people to do just that. We talked about how everyone worships differently, and sometimes the best way to worship is to watch others express themselves to God in different ways. So all over the sanctuary were different spaces set up for us to use our unique gifts to worship in different ways. There were easels with art supplies, kneeling pads placed at the foot of the cross, artwork around to reflect on, and soft music playing. They gave us about 15 minutes of pure freedom, to worship as we saw fit--through writing, drawing, sitting in silence, painting, kneeling, etc. At first I though, "oh dear, this Presbyterian church isn't going to know what to do with this." And some didn't. But many loved it. Many tried something new. Many were exposed for the first time to the idea that drawing can be worship. Writing can be worship. It was beautiful.

One elderly woman, probably in her 80s, almost immediately got out of her pew and made her way to the front of the sanctuary towards the cross. She was beautiful. She radiated God's love and joy. As I watched her, I wrote this:

Frail hands

Hands that have touched, caressed, soothed, and held many in their years
Hands shaking slightly
Raise above her body. Both hands, raised,
Stretching, reaching out towards the cross.

Her stark blue sweater stands bright in contrast with the gray stone walls.
Hands raised in exuberant praise
And exaltation to the One who is clearly the
King of her life.

Frail knees shake and creak as she lowers herself upon a kneeling pad,
As she kneels before the cross.
Those hands, those beautiful, wrinkled, shaking hands
Stretch out once again, raised in adoration, raise with abandon
As a child reaches out and raises her hands to her Father.