Wednesday, September 19, 2012 at 10:04PM

On a typical Sunday morning, the Cityview Church (my church) worship team does a sound check and run through our set list for about three quarts of an hour (we rehearse on Thursday). Then we gather at the back to pray before the church bell rings and we begin the Sunday morning worship.

One Sunday, having done the sound check and all the last minute changes and communiqué, we prayed for the service. Warren, a 4 year old who followed his mother along, automatically slipped his hands in Kevin’s and mine as soon as he heard me say ‘let’s pray’.

The image of a little hand holding a big hand stuck with me the next couple of weeks. In my mind, this picture was a contrast of the weak versus the strong, the vulnerable versus the mighty, the immature against the mature….

Which led me to ask myself ‘Visually (but Biblically), which hand would represent God’s hand and which one would be mine?’ Of course, it’s a no brainer. God is strong and I am weak.  Therefore God’s hand would be the adult strong hand holding the weak child’s (my) hand. Right?

Then I reflected on the life of Jesus…

He was born in a stranger’s manger. He lived the life of an outcast; associating himself with tax collectors, lepers and prostitutes (the untouchables). And he died a criminal’s death… a shameful death on a cross.

The Almighty reaches out to us in weakness and vulnerability… not in powerful, acrobatical glory. 

So now, should I have trouble believing that the little hand could be the hand of God reaching out to me… and you? The wobbling drunken homeless man, the shaky crack head or the itchy-nosed heroine junky…
God reaches out to us.

Aren’t we blessed to have a God who can sympathize with us (weakness, if you have one)?

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