The Hands of God

In the recent art exhibit I helped to organize in our town, I saw the hands of God.

The hand of an angel quickly and firmly grabbing Abraham's wrist, just barely preventing what could have been a tragedy. I saw the hand of God saying, "No, I am not that kind of god. In love, I will provide another way."

The shining hands reaching out from a cloud of blinding light, delivering the law, establishing a covenant, reaching down to man, revealing more of himself. Though we cannot bear to see his face, he stretches out his hands to say, "This is who I am."

Again, blinding light, this time radiating from a baby, humble, gentle, yet in whom the fullness of God dwells. The light shining in darkness, the Word made flesh. The one for whom the world is waiting reaches out toward his mother with a tiny and weak newborn hand.

A father welcomes his lost son with two peculiar hands: one larger, placed firmly on the shoulder, the other softer, pulling in his back. The hands of God, firm and tender, just and loving, full of truth and grace, welcome sinners and exhort them to sin no more. "Consider the kindness and severity of God." Romans 11:22

The reigning Christ stretches out his hands at the last judgment. They form the arms of the scale of justice: his rule is impartial, good, true, and right. Though the hands are just, they are not clenched in fists, but open, welcoming, and marked with scars. His justice will be administered according his steadfast love and the righteousness he bestows upon his children, acquired by the nails with which he was pierced. In the hands of God are a loving justice and a just love.

Mix Tape: More Than Meets the Eye

There was a time when music meant something. When it came from somewhere deep down inside. Where we sang it with everything we had, because for the duration of that song it was in fact all we had.

In our emo phase, for example, that's what it was all about. Duh, it was emotional. That's how it was meant to be. Melodramatic? Sure, to some onlookers maybe, but never to the guy singing his heart out, be it the frontman on stage or the fanboy in the crowd.

This is how music is meant to be, after all. I'm convinced it's the purpose music serves. No, I'm not talking about emo, thrashing around on stage, screams, forcing tears, black hair dye and black nail polish. I mean that music is for encompassing and expressing a full range of emotions that can't quite be articulated otherwise. And a good song does exactly that not just through instrumentation or performance, but primarily through a melody, through a chord progression, through rhythm and syncopation. Through its bare bones. Like a good folk song at its core, dress it up however you like and it will almost always produce the same results. A tug on the heart, a nudge in the soul.

In enters Scottish electro-pop act CHVRCHES. Now, I know that surely there is more to electronic music than meets the eye. And while I admire the craft, I never quite get the live show: a couple of nerds standing behind the glow of their laptops, pressing play on things they've copied and pasted, and pretending they're doing something more. Surely it's more than that, but I don't yet entirely get it. Now imagine taking that underwhelming set up and putting it in a 9 to 5 office setting, next to the cubicles and under the fluorescent lights. What could be more boring? Yet for some reason, I find this Tiny Desk Concert to be one of the most powerful I've seen. And it's because the songs -- the melodies, the chords, the rhythm -- are just that good. In the end it's not really at all about synths and beats and loops and bloops. It's about whatever's lying deep within that produces these pieces of music meant to be felt. We don't expect such a small, sweet, and vulnerable voice to produce as much as it does. More than meets the eye, indeed.


The Bones of What You Believe is an album that's been finding its way into our home slowly and surely. Like I've mentioned, even the kids like it. There's a lot of great stand out tracks, but for the mix tape, I choose "Recover."

Shaking what your mama and papa gave ya.

I've got good news for the world.

My kids like to cut a rug. But we're really pleased to tell you that the girl is already the best dancer of the three. We didn't think it was possible to feel rhythm more than the first two do. She's proved us wrong. And at only 16 months, this is promising.

I'm also proud to announce she apparently really really likes the group CHVRCHES, whom I've been meaning to write about for a while now...