Play-doh

Yesterday afternoon, at the Colloquy I co-facilitate at Wesley Theological Seminary, the student who led our devotions talked about two aspects of our lives we tend to neglect when we get busy. The first is God. The second is play. So he passed around small containers of Play-doh. After praying, he played some music and asked us to play with our lump of Play-doh, reflecting on our relationship with God.

As the lump fit into my palm, I immediately thought about how God has written our name in the palm of God’s hand. I pressed the lump between my two palms. When I looked again, all the lines—large and small—from my palms were inscribed on both sides of the Play-doh. I marveled at the detail kept in the clay, and wondered how my life could reflect the Love revealed in the lines of God’s hands. These are the hands that set the Creation in motion. These are the hands that blessed Abram and Sarai. These are the hands that poured oil upon David’s head. These are the hands that healed the lame, and gave sight to the blind. These are the hands that were nailed to the cross.

I know I have to be careful with all metaphors, especially ones that liken God to a human being. Metaphors can point us towards truth about God, but in the end they will all fall short. Knowing that, I felt that if God holds me in the palms of God’s hands so closely that the lines of God’s hands are inscribed upon me, how could I live so that the memory of those lines will show through me?

Isaiah 49:15b-16a

Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.