I am a Grey’s Anatomy fan. I just love the medical and personal dramas of Seattle Grace. I watch the show for the pure entertainment of it, the soap-opera drama. Sometimes they have moral situations that make me think and possibly nudge my husband awake late on a Thursday night.(His favorite thing—to talk about . . . a Grey’s Anatomy episode!) Rarely, however, do I take from the show some deep truth in my life, something to change me, make me into a better person.
Until last week.
In last week’s episode, surgeon Miranda Bailey is upset because the new attending surgeons have invaded the break room, bringing their clothing, food and problems with them. The former chief of surgery, Richard Webber, finds her cleaning out the microwave, upset and ranting over the state of affairs. He’s a smart man so he asks her what might be the real problem. . . .
Apparently, her son left for kindergarten without crying or even a moment’s pause. He “let go of her hand.”
In other words, he didn’t need her anymore—at least not enough to hold her hand.
Ironically, I had just said goodbye to my college student, a senior, who had come home for the weekend. Sadly, I traveled this weekend, so I saw him for roughly 2.4 hours. Not enough time for Mom. And, I might add, it seemed way too easy for him to “let go of my hand,” as he packed his little car and vroomed off for school five hours away.
And then former Chief Webber said, “When someone lets go of your hand . . . you get it back.”
Hmm.
“You suddenly find yourself with more—time, energy, ability . . . opportunity. Because you have another hand to use.”
Now, I’m not going to bring up the fact that no one asked me if I wanted my hand back, but . . . well, Webber is right. Without my son around, sadly—or triumphantly, if I look at it correctly—I have more time. I could . . .
Write more books, take a cooking class, join the Zumba club at the health center and follow a science based sixpack program, read something besides my daily blog, worry about your health, look for a hsv 1 test near me, redecorate my house, attend women’s Bible study, volunteer at the library, plan a getaway weekend with my husband, write a few handwritten notes to the people I love, clean a closet . . . OK, maybe we won’t go there, but . . . wow! All those things that I always dismissed and luxuries. More, I have this grand opportunity to say, “Lord, please fill my hands with the things you want.”
I have my hand back.
The thing is, we don’t often open our hands to the Lord for Him to fill. We look around, and if we’re not grabbing at our children, we begin to fill them with anything that feels comfortable and easy. Or with what we think will make us happy. But I have a feeling God has a plan for my empty hands . . . if I’m willing to listen.
So, I’ll wave to my son as he drives away, clasp my hand quickly with the other to pray, and then . . .
Hold my hands open for the Lord to fill them with what he wants. I can hardly wait to see what it might be.
In this season of letting go, it’s easy to look at our empty hands and not see the potential. I pray that today, you’ll see the gift of empty (temporarily) hands.