My mouse finger (& other thoughts)

I’ve been a writer for 35 years so I suppose it’s no great surprise that those years have left their mark on me. I have RSI in my wrists, a tendency to talk to myself. (yes, and even argue with myself), a disinclination to join crowds, and…. this…..

A finger that can’t be straightened. Imagine all the thousands of mouse clicks that must have been made to end up with a weird digit like this one! But I’m strangely pleased with it (proud of it?).

I don’t know why but this sort of thing amuses and even delights me. In that weird finger I see how clever the mechanics of the human body are, how perfectly the systems work together, how miraculous our senses are, and when something like this goes a bit awry I realise how many things can go wrong but usually go perfectly right. What a creation we are.

Look – in this one chubby old digit there’s bone and tendons and muscles and blood supply and nerve endings and regenerating skin and tissue and sensation… and I’ve got two handfuls of the things! MARVELLOUS!

Think of me sitting here with my wonky digit, thumping away kack-handedly on the key board, knowing that you – whoever you are – are reading this and that it makes some sort of sense (vaguely) to you. My life reaching yours, across the hours or days, and all the miles. Isn’t that amazing? That our thoughts are coherent, have form and understanding, that we can imagine and remember and share, that you strangers can reach into the muddy waters of my mind.

I have a very dear friend who will occasionally send me a message “Have I told you yet today that you are wonderful?”

When I first read this message I would tut-tut to myself ‘He’s a good bloke, just trying to encourage me. ‘ and then, as I knew him better and knew that he wouldn’t say stuff just for the sake of saying it, my reaction was ‘Hah! He obviously doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does’ but then finally, finally, I understood what he was saying. He was saying that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Straight from Psalm 139, verse 14.

We lose sight of how startlingly miraculous existence is. Everything is perfectly unbelievable. How is it that we are hurtling through space on this little lump of rock at 67,000 miles an hour? How is it that we aren’t flung off it? How come the Earth dips every 24 hours to give us a sight of the sun, as we revolve? How is it that the Sun is also moving in the Milky Way, while the Milky Way is also moving through the Cosmos? And let’s go from the huge to the tiny, how is that the human eye, which is made up of more than a million cells, an organ that weighs less than half an ounce, informs us of light and dark, colour, shapes, distance and even textures of objects, yards or even miles away from us? A distant mountain top, a needle being threaded at the end of our nose, a salmon streaking through a river.

How is it that with our small porridge-like brains we can design the most complicated software systems imaginable (and let’s not dwell on their shortcomings – have you ever tried to get a download from Microsoft?), imagining and then realising machines, planes, bridges and skyscrapers, writing books, painting portraits, calculating and scheming, regretting and hoping, dreaming and desiring, caring and loving? Our minds, eh? Complete micro-universes of imagery and concepts.

All these things and a billion more…. impossibly perfectly incredible. But there they all are.

Look at this fellow

There’s no reason why he should exist but he does, and he is a delight.

And here he is again, but there are two of him, and without thinking about it, you know that one is a reflection in water. How staggering that you know that, without even thinking! And look, a reflection of clouds at the top of the picture, and a suggestion of rocks. And all this, you know. You are amazing!

You are amazing. You are. As my pal would say ‘Have I told you yet today that you are wonderful?’

The world is dazzling. Sometimes we forget to stand still and thank God for all we have, all the amazingly unbelievable and unfathomable facets of our existence. So I’m going to do it now. Join me if you want to. Let’s send a great paean of praise up into the stratosphere and eternity.

He spreads out the northern skies over empty space;
    he suspends the earth over nothing.
He wraps up the waters in his clouds,
    yet the clouds do not burst under their weight.
 He covers the face of the full moon,
    spreading his clouds over it.
 He marks out the horizon on the face of the waters
    for a boundary between light and darkness.

Job 26:7-10:

He is before all things and in him all things hold together.
Colossians 1:17:

7 thoughts on “My mouse finger (& other thoughts)

  1. Again we find ourselves praising for the same reasons. I asked myself recently how could anyone believe such order came out of chaos? The stars predictably come each night in constellations, the spider spins a web using mathematical angles! We are most definitely fearfully and wonderfully made. God is GOOD all the time. Thanks again Lucy XxX


  2. Luce thank you for your encouraging, helpful, honest email blogs ( and your poem in church) and for the brilliant Christmas play – I loved it, absolutely loved it. You are brilliant and bring God so very close at times Thankyou Love & God bless Karen xxx


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