These Hands: poetry by kim

These hands have been in motion from the moment I was conceived.

These hands were the cilia that helped me figure out my world as a small child.

These hands, though asian are no different than my white sisters, my black brothers, my indian friends.

The phalanges that extend from the wrists of this being have learned to color with crayons, write with a pencil, do cursive in permanent ink.

They have held my body in midair as I learned to do cartwheels.

They have gracefully interpreted the emotions of a classical ballet piece.

They have gripped a tennis racquet, with sweat in between the leather and my epidermis, while running around on a court in hundred degree weather.

These hands have had my fingers jammed from 'setting' the volley ball for my fellow players.

These hands have created many a artistic projects for my family and friends on special and non-special occasions.

These long, somewhat slender fingers have dreamed of being a concert pianist while playing the ever challenging musical piece 'chop sticks'.

My hands have held the very hands of my husband from day one to the present, every day.

My hands are the tools in which I have learned many skills that employed me, have given me joy, have gotten me in trouble, have covered my mouth in a frozen surprise, have waved hello and goodbye to many loved ones through the years.

These hands with many miles on them are still young in years, and yet with so much life in them still, that I need not be surprised by what they will do for me next.

These hands have so desired, along with my heart, to embrace a lost child, an orphaned child, a sickly child, my own child,

So as the years have come and gone, these hands, my hands have allowed me to comfort the hurting, celebrate with a loved one, hugged a homeless person, clapped at a child's accomplishment or silliness, caressed the face of a newborn baby, and spoken another language through signing.

These hands, my hands have given little, have taken much and seek more ways to be used in the life of others.

These hands that have been so carefully and wonderfully made perfect, as well asfunctional, await for the abundance of new work, more sorrow, always ready to get dirty, waiting for a future of continued purpose.

Thank you, god, for these hands...

Book: Mountains Beyond Mountains - by tracy kidder

The life and work of Paul Farmer. Between the pages I am currently reading, I am thoroughly enjoying each word, each paragraph. I want so much not to finish the book because I don't want this hero's story to end.

When I look back on the last few years and see the progression in which god has been taking me through the spiritual, the physical, the emotional, the relational and finally the passion-filled ride of my life, I am filled with a sense of gratitude. This is not to say that I have any one thing down firmly, but that in the search for my life's work, my life's purpose I have been able to see the slow development of where I may be heading. I have some grandiose ideas for sure, but if I am patient enough I will know in greater detail of what I will be soon working toward for the future.

I have been smart enough to have kept my eyes open and my heart ready for anything, in case something should spectacularly great happen for me. So far nothing on that level, but I have seen all the pieces beginning to make sense and begin processing the images of what are some of my passions.

• Compassion and empathy for the underdog.
• Compassion and sadness, empathy and a great desire to work on the plight of our children, our future.
• Anger, hate and madness over poverty, war, homelessness, disease, and women's issues.
• Sadness, frustration, anger of the working conditions, the pay and the treatment of migrant workers across the world.
• A sickened heart that slavery has never truly been abolished. It's quite rampant worldwide-but it's overlooked by all the other ills of society.

When reading such a book as Mountains Beyond Mountains, one realizes the power that we each have within to do something, as long as we have enough guts, timidity, anger, and courage to try to make changes as we encounter them.
I have for years felt a sense of that power, but now more than ever, I am beginning to develop the courage and the guts to be the change that I want to see.

I realize that I can never be like Paul Farmer in that I can just make things happen from the get-go, but now understand that I don't HAVE to be the one that is the creative force behind my social endeavors, but that I can partner with others that have the same passion and are implementing these things already. And as for myself it may simply be a matter of finding a way to use my gifts that may best fit the work of the affiliate(s).

I have always held myself in very high esteem in terms of expecting great things from myself, from being the creative, to pulling it off to receiving the glorification of my sweat equity. Basically it had to be all or nothing otherwise I wasn't going to get involved in any way. I had always felt that I could die knowing that I didn't need to lean on anyone else to accomplish what I desired. But somewhere down the road, with little to show for having such high self expectations, I realized that I can't throw the baby out with the bath-water, just because I wasn't the one to draw the bath. I believe this is a mark of maturity, of self-realization of my powerlessness, my need to no longer be in control and to not get due credit where credit is due.

I only wish I had accepted all of this much sooner in life, but then perhaps it has needed my taking this long to finally 'get it'.

I still desire to be some one great but only in the idea that I am able to help one, two, three or more children in some form that is outside of myself. Perhaps great in the sense of knowing I was being used fully for who I was created to be in this life.

I still will never be a Paul Farmer, but I certainly can piggyback on his immense desire for change in the lives of the poor, the children, the women, the sick and the dying.

Thanks, Paul Farmer, for your inspiration and for your true example of what humanitarian work really looks like. I will forever be grateful for your legacy and simply your living by example.