It can be so difficult to find the right posture, the right attitude when we pray. My dear friend Ellen shares her own practice of opening her hands … It’s such an insightful article …
What no one tells you about being blessed with an hourglass body shape, is that a small waist & larger spread of hips can be awfully hard on the back. When I was in my late 20’s, my love of high heels, the kind that unconsciously make your body sway and adjust to stay upright, caught up with me and landed me on the sofa, immobile. When I went for physical therapy, the therapist started drilling the importance of “pelvic tilt” into my head. Apparently, my bum wasn’t actually supposed to stick out like that, however attractive some more recent celebrities may be trying to make it look. (My husband, admittedly, was disappointed.) At Pilates: pelvic tilt. At the osteopath: pelvic tilt. I should be an expert at it now, with having to set aside most of my beloved heels, and even change my tooth brushing and sleeping habits to accommodate that slight tucking of my lower abdomen toward my spine. (I’m tilting as I type this, reminded that I am supposed to do it at all times)
It saves me weeks and months of painful immobilization, but it is so, so hard to remember, for some reason. I have exercises to do, and when I actually do them, I’m amazed at how they really do “work.” And shoes? Now I have to choose the orthopedic ones that aren’t quite visually appealing. They’ve saved me so much agony. I do really miss my red patent-leather slingbacks with the four-inch heel, but I don’t miss the payback of the swayback they gave me.
Similarly, in my early 20’s, I started to learn about the spiritual discipline of posture. I knew some things about religious posture, having experienced churches that did the sitting/kneeling combination of liturgy, and had been taught to fold hands to pray. I had bowed at a communion rail to receive Jesus’ body and blood, and to have my faith confirmed. I knew that posture could be a genuine reflection of reverence and a heart that loved Jesus.
This new discipline – a discipline of release and waiting – was different though, adopting a posture of hands upturned and open, rather than grasping. Holding fists tight, opening them, and then swiveling my wrists upward. I’m not entirely sure where I actually first encountered this discipline, but after almost two decades of practice, it has stuck. It’s been one of those things that, as a good discipline should, comes somewhat naturally now (although I often have to remind myself). That, in itself, is remarkably encouraging (perhaps one day the pelvic tilt will take hold the same way).
Honestly, opening my hands to Him is more about me telling Jesus, “I know I need to let go. I know I can’t do this. I’m holding on to the wrong things / people / circumstances for the wrong reasons. I need You to fill my hands with the right things, and adjust my heart. I need You.” It’s both difficult and beautifully simple, and remarkably freeing.
This discipline goes against my natural tendency of extreme diligence, which, when I’m stressed, turns against me, leaving me grabby, controlling, clinging and determined to make things happen. I need to experience the physical opening of my hands to release what I’ve been carrying or clinging to, and the posture-shift of the turning of my wrists to leave my hands open to what God would put in them. Often, since my mind rarely stops turning, I need to do this in the morning when I wake, wondering what the day ahead holds, or in the car, when a few minutes of space to think allows me to consider what I really need to make it through. I need to do it at night so I can rest, knowing He will take the things I give Him and be faithful with them, and He will fill my hands with what is best. In choosing a new posture, there is peace. Remarkable peace.
I can’t necessarily explain why or how, but the discipline of release has meant health for my spiritual posture, for my mind, for my heart. I wish I could say that I never forget, but I do. Often. When I look back at certain situations now, I so long to go back in time – to choose to release fear, anger, or disappointment, reverse my posture, upturn my hands, to extend grace to others and receive peace and mercy from my very generous God. Here’s what I’m hoping though: for the length of my days, this discipline will serve me as to love Jesus and love my neighbor. Good discipline teaches us in ways that give life, not crushed spirits. I grieve my failure (and might even clasp it too tightly) and need to hand that over to Him as well. Eugene Peterson calls this discipleship “a long obedience in the same direction”, and it really is. A small tilt of the heart, really, day after day, becoming permanent change.
One day, I’m not sure when, I want to teach my daughter this same truth. Oh, do I pray she understands this deeply. She’ll have enough people telling her to be sway-backed, both physically and spiritually. Her open hands will be counter-cultural, in the best possible way. Let it be so in us.
A prayer for posture: Lord, we forget that we are loved and given all we need. Please forgive us.
We grasp and hold tight to things that You have never intended for us to carry. Please give us the courage to release these things that cause us to bend and break, and release our fear of losing control, because You are the best manager of all things.
Lord, please help us turn our hands and hearts and faces to you. Shine on us, Lord, revealing to us the vast abundance of your grace and mercy and peace.
Fill our hands with the things that are best, the things that are of You. Help us to rely on Your goodness rather than our limited strength. You are so very good.
Teach us to trust you, Lord. Remind us of your truth, and, because of your kindness to us, remind us to let go.
Lord, may we be healthy, open-handed and open-hearted people in a world overwhelmed by closed fists. May we reflect You as we practice a long obedience, knowing that You love us deeply.
P.S. Jesus, can you also please remind me to tuck my bum in when I walk? And inspire someone to make comfortable shoes that are actually cute? I’m clinging to those shoes a bit too hard.
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Bio: Ellen Graf-Martin is a West Coast, Vancouver Island, slightly-granola girl who spent five years post-university with Operation Mobilization, returned to Canada, married an amazing man and landed up living crazy cross-cultural in Southwestern Ontario Mennonite farm country where the Hubster and they enjoy life generously with their sweet baby girl. She shares thoughts on faith, hope and courage at www.ellengrafmartin.com.
By day, she leads the team at www.grafmartin.com – by night, she is mama, wife, friend, dreamer and creative DIY’er. She’s also proud to be part of Gather – a new national, interdenominational, intergenerational, multicultural network of Christian women across Canada (it’s an amazing, beautiful thing!).
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It is good to see that Ellen’s mind and heart are both firing on all six-cylinders. She is an amazing person!
She certainly is.