Left Hand

We were reminiscing about computers.
There was a line that was crossed between having a computer and not having one.
There was a time when world wide web could have very well been associated with spiders.
There was a before and after.

We cannot imagine our lives without computers now.
That was not always the case.
Before word documents, there were handwritten papers and letters.
Before Google, there were encyclopedias.

I was not some dinosaur that went into the computer age kicking and screaming.
There was a learning curve, to be sure, but I embraced the new technology.
That was after I overcame one obstacle.
I remember the day my husband bought our first computer.

It was before laptops and iPads.
It was a large computer tower with a keyboard and a monitor.
I remember thinking that the monitor resembled a small TV.
There were wires everywhere.

The computer was in a central location.
There had to be some sort of prioritized schedule to accommodate everyone.
Gone were the days of typing paper, carbon paper for copies, and white out for mistakes.
Now it was a click and a mouse.

My daughters seemed to master the computer very quickly.
They were beginning to have computer labs in school.
I watched as my husband moved the mouse and clicked.
I watched both of my daughters type quickly and accurately.

Then, it was my turn.
I wished that I didn’t have an audience looking over my shoulder.
I wished that I had been left alone to figure it out myself.
That evening; however, Mom on the computer was live entertainment.

I approached the keyboard cautiously, my pride still intact.
I sat down and put my hand on the mouse.
The cursor darted across the screen much like the Road Runner on Saturday morning.
I tried again.

The cursor was dancing and not obeying my command.
I saw my husband and oldest daughter glance at each other over my head.
Why was this so hard for me?
I literally could not do it; I could not make the cursor go where I wanted it to go.

The cursor on the screen became blurry as I felt tears coming to my eyes.
I can’t do this, I said with more force than I intended.
My husband did not try to talk me out of my frustration.
Computers were for him and for my children, but they were not for me.

As if on cue, my oldest daughter interjected her thoughts.
Mom, why don’t you use your left hand?
I looked at her and looked at the elaborate maze of wires before me.
I thought of how I might turn my chair and cross my hand over the keyboard.

With choreographed ease, she lifted the mouse and mouse pad and moved it.
She fixed the wires and situated everything on my left side.
I didn’t know you could do that, I said naively.
You can put the mouse wherever you need it to be, Mom, as I ate a slice of humble pie.

With ease, I maneuvered the mouse expertly.
I was able to click efficiently and type quickly.
She helped to launch me into the computer age with her quick perception.
That was the beginning of everything.

There are actually college scholarships to be had if you are left-handed.
You are considered a minority.
I laughed at the incredulity of that fact.
If it is a minority, then our family is the exception, since three out of seven are left-handed.

I cannot cut well with scissors.
I cannot use salad tongs without getting lettuce everywhere.
My hand always makes pencil smudges as I drag my left hand across the page.
Paper towels are always put upside down on the holder so I can pull them off easily.

The writing surface of the desks at college was always on the right side.
I had to turn my body in strange positions so that I could take notes.
It is a right-handed world.
Left-handed people learn to make accommodations.

Again, the Israelites cried out to the Lord and He gave them a deliverer, Ehud, a left-handed man, the son of Gera the Benjamite. The Israelites sent him with a tribute to Eglon, king of Moab. Now Ehud had made a double-edged sword about a foot and a half long, which he strapped to his right thigh under his clothing. He presented the tribute to Eglon, king of Moab, who was a very fat man. After Ehud had presented the tribute, he sent on their way the men who had carried it. At the idols near Gilgal he himself turned back and said, “I have a secret message for you, O king.” The king said, “Quiet!” And all his attendants left him. Ehud then approached him while he was sitting alone in the upper room of his summer palace and said, “I have a message from God for you.” As the king rose from his seat. Ehud reached with his left hand, drew the sword from his right thigh, and plunged it into the king’s belly. Even the handle sank in after the blade, which came out his back. Ehud did not pull the sword out, and the fat closed over it. Then Ehud went out to the porch, he shut the doors of the upper room behind him and locked them. (Judges 3:15-23)

Many of the Benjamites were left-handed.
Left-handedness was seen as a defect.
God used Ehud’s cunning to deliver Israel.
Ehud assassinated the king deceitfully rather than engage him in battle.

What the world sees as a defect, God uses for His purposes.
God used Ehud’s left-handedness to deliver His people.
The world will always try to set a standard of normalcy.

What is normal?
Since God is our Creator, He has the right to set the standards.
God is still in the habit of using creative ways to deliver His people.
Often, those ways are out of the norm, but they are always perfect.