My hands serve Him
Some days I must do something that fills my heart and lifts my soul AND serves God. I feel like much of my day to day serves God (or at least should) and when I become aware I am not aligned with His plans for my day, I try to refocus. If I am off work, like I was this weekend, I DO SOMETHING. I offered to help one of the teachers at school in anyway possible if they needed my sewing skills. She had an idea and I kind of ran with it. They wanted to use a piece of scripture in a gift for the school’s parish. Each of the kids did a hand print in paint on cloth but when I started working on assembling that paint hand prints around the embroidered line of scripture, I realized that the altar cloth might one day need to be washed and when washed, all the children’s hand prints would come off. Then I had an idea.
I am 93% done with the project and openly pleased with the outcome. I hope it pleases the class, principal and parish priests.
It helped me to focus on the hands, the kids, the different sizes and the uniqueness of each one. Every hand is different and offers no clue as to it’s maker. One of the teachers had the smallest hand of all and some of the daintiest girls had quite large hands. The finger length, their spread and the pressure made (although I did put pressure on some of the hands to make sure we got good imprints) serve as testimony of how each child is a unique creation of God. We are all unique to Him. Our imperfections and asymmetries serve to make us individuals and no one should hope to be exactly like another.
And so today, my hands stayed busy doing work for Him, trying to stay focused on what will please the kids and the school. I was careful with the seams and the stitches, wanting it to be something that lasts a long time.