The Withered Hand

I grew up Lutheran in a small Michigan town. Lutherans, being close to catholic, lived on guilt.
I went away to Valparaiso University (before Michigan State) and, being a Lutheran School of good news and calmness, I found out a lot of things about myself and religion...some good some not so good. On whole, they were the two most fortunate years of my life.

I write about withered hands now as my left hand and arm are that and my blog writing has suffered not due to desire but out of ability.  Anyway, the withered hand parable is one that I can hang on to (no pun intended - well maybe).

Before then, and at times since, I cringe at tele-evangelists. The Jack van Impe's of the world make me nuts. The real deals - and I count Joel Osteen in this mix - don't. The later group extends hope and compassion. They say they would offer a hand up and I do believe they would. This brings me to the "withered hand" parable.

John Adams wrote this piece and put in a gospel-like reader for the reading. You can like or not like, enjoy or not,...but there is a certain inner peace to this that is compelling and worthy.