“If my hands are fully occupied in holding on to something, I can neither give nor receive.”
- Dorothee Soelle (1929-2003)
This quote hangs in my office - a reminder of a destination I needed to reach. For many years my "hands" were fully occupied holding onto something I sensed as a priceless treasure - something seemingly godly and good, but this did leave me unable to give or receive the blessings of the fullness around me. The path to letting go was unspeakably long and painful, but I have finally arrived at the destination: freedom, release, and outstretched open hands through which God’s grace can flow. As I journeyed, the quote above and the poem below were signposts, glimpses of the destination, reminders to journey on.
LET EVENING COME
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.
Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
(Jane Kenyon 1990)