The Gospel story about the man with a withered hand has me recalling a boy named Calvin who from birth had a right hand shaped like a fish. The kids on my street didn’t like having Calvin hanging around with us.
To make up for his obvious shortcomings, Calvin dreamed of becoming a Country-Western singer, and we didn’t like any of the songs he kept trying out on us.
We didn’t out-and-out feel sorry for Calvin, we just didn’t like him for the way he was. Christ, though, would have seen threw to Calvin’s misery, as he did with the man in the Gospel; and the goodness of his heart just wouldn’t let the man’s misery persist.
We don’t have the power to miraculously cure anyone’s deformity, but as Christians we must let our hearts go out to all the Calvins, making their lives more pleasant.