The phrase: Friends of my Right Hand popped into my head this morning…oddly just as I was doing my hair in front of the mirror.
I am far stronger on my right side than my left. A reminder of Jan 6, 2001, my left hand isn’t much good for doing my hair, buttoning my blouse or cutting vegetables for dinner. Those of you who know me well know that doesn’t throw me at all. It may give people who don’t know me concern, but it doesn’t phase friends of my right hand, which may be one of the reasons that I love you.
I adore people who look deeper. Deeper observers want to get at the heart. They appreciate and value what can be seen quickly, but hunger for what’s under the surface
I often, frankly, have people tell me how admirable it is…how inspirational it is…to live as I live. I generally try to smile and say thank you, but that’s not what is going on underneath. Inside I am thinking that there is nothing amazing about this at all. What is amazing is how gracious God has been to me. How incredible my transformation has been, and how thankful I am for what I went through and for the woman I have become. Grateful for the reminder in my life of His work through pain.. Grateful that I am changed, and that I now look for deeper. Enough about my shoes, for heaven’s sake! FAR cooler to tie my Keds with my right hand!
So, the friends of my right hand, and you of course know who you are ( I haven’t met everyone yet. New friends that can see keep appearing in my life!) get me and recognize beauty from ashes.
You are there, but you let me tell you if you can help cut vegetables. Remember, I can open wine bottles with one hand!! You are totally clear on how I think, and I am with you…still conversations with you are not hard, even if the subject is. Talking with you is filling, rather than emptying. You tell me the truth, as I do you. We both want progress!
You even get that shoe shopping is still a must…we just won’t look at high heels!