A week or so ago I wrote about a woman whose arm was bitten off by a shark. She still managed to be a professional surfer, but the loss made it harder.

 

Recently I listened to a Spirit and Life episode exploring the book of Ezra. I am less informed about that story than I am of some others and I was curious. The speaker described the effort to rebuild the walls around Jerusalem, and the obstacles to that effort. As it happened there were hostile forces working against the Israelites. This divided the attention of the masons, such that one hand held the tools, while the other wielded a weapon. 

 

There have been periods in my life when I, too, worked with one hand, For years I cradled a baby even as I tried to wash dishes, or fold clothes. Once I broke my wrist, and had to navigate simple tasks with a lone limb.  Those circumstances were enough to teach me that two hands come in handy. 

 

The notion of these masons having to shield themselves while also rebuilding the wall is poignant. It suggests to me that there could be instances when I am slowing someone down who is trying to accomplish meaningful goals, by attacking them. Not with weapons, per se, but with my criticism. 

 

Is there some part of my brain that believes that standing over another person's task, ready to pounce, somehow improves the quality of those efforts? What if I picked up a trowel instead?