The other day I came home after work and crashed, which I do sometimes after a long day with the special kiddos. When I woke up I stretched my vision down my arm and looked at my hand. Totally relaxed, it was slightly curled and wanting to grasp. To hold on. To offer something.
I find it interesting that a hand at rest is not wide open and stiff, but soft and curved. No deep thoughts beyond that. An observation of my God-created body.