Thumbs up

 I had a dream a little while ago that I accidentally cut off my right thumb.  It didn't hurt. It wasn't gross. I don't remember how I did it. But I was carrying around my cut off thumb, not too concerned about it. (You know how dreams are.) 

Eventually, however, I started thinking about it. How would I play piano? Hey, wait a minute--how would I do a lot of things?? I began to wonder where the nearest hospital was. Then I woke up. And I was upset. And thankful. I felt my thumb. Both of my thumbs, and my hands, and I was so happy they were there. And I was very grateful. But also scared. 

A person could accidentally cut off their thumb or do anything stupid or careless at any time. I began to worry about my son working at Subway. What if he wasn't careful? And this spiraled into various catastrophic scenarios. (You know how it is when you wake up at 4 a.m.)

But then I remembered. The Lord is my Shepherd, and I am His child. He watches over me, and my son, and everyone I love. And I was thankful, and I went back to sleep. And I am thankful. So very thankful. 

I used to look at my hands and say they're old and ugly. Not anymore. I love my hands! I am fearfully and wonderfully made! (Psalm 139:14)