When the Homily is about Immunology

Inept Hands

Fearfully I watched as her little, inexperienced and inept hands lifted the bowl of hot tomato soup into the air. The color and texture of the bowl were anathema to her and she was adamant about having it replaced. Our willingness to oblige was suddenly stopped short as we saw the precariousness of situation represented by the uplifted bowl.

I tried to reason with her, not wishing to reach out and complicate the already dangerous alignment of gravitational and muscular forces. “Put the bowl down honey.”

Upon hindsight, I believe she took this to mean that I was not going to allow the request (demand) for bowl replacement. I saw her dissatisfied expression grow mores on a logarithmic scale. The bowl could not remain in its present elevated state for long.

“Please, put the bowl down,” I said emphatically, “you are going to drop it.”

She cried out in complaint, still misinterpreting my words as a denial of her initial request. And by the same token, I was not interpreting her situation properly either. In my mind she was simply disobeying me – purposefully denying MY initial request.

It was in slow motion that I watched the bowl of soup slip unsurprisingly out of her little hands and fall into the bowl of salad. I sunk into the “that figures” lamentations.

“I didn’t mean to,” she cried.

In hindsight - hindsight mind you - I can see that. God grant me foresight. Truly I must be thankful that He has perfect foresight and as I struggle to overcome my much more deliberately inept hands that He will not need to lament the bitterness of hindsight as I do so often.