My musical blog yesterday focused on a sculpture of my left hand that I made recently. I have always loved hands. As a small child, the image of God’s hands was prevalent in the books given to us at the beginning of each term in our Sunday school classes. Our hands reveal so much about us: our age, our race and, for some, the kind of work we do. PaPa, my mother’s father, had hands that were large, strong, ruddy and gnarled but, at the same time, gentle and loving when he prayed and played … [Read more...]