Double Jointed Pinky

I have a double jointed pinky finger. I guess I've always had it. I didn't really notice it until about 16 years ago.

A few friends (with God's help) planned to start this Gen-X church in Denver many years ago.  I was asked to join the team, when they were about to launch it. I was to lead worship for the church. In addition, I led worship for the singles group at Colorado Community Church. One Friday night, the bass player scheduled to play on Sunday, couldn't make it. I really wanted a bass player. I thought, "How hard could it be?"

Thankfully, I was friends with some folks in a band called Five Iron Frenzy and their bass player let me use one of his basses and amps to teach myself to play bass that Saturday. I spent the day learning to play a few of the songs and noticed that my pinky finger really hated to be forced down on a string. It seemed to get angry and pop back up. It took all the strength I could muster in my little finger to press that string and hold it.

Sunday morning, I showed up with my gold, glittery bass. I played the opening song (first time playing in front of anyone, as well as leading vocals). It seemed to go okay. The little pinky popped up once, but no one noticed. I played a couple songs on bass, then moved to the keys (my comfort zone). That day I happened to accompany someone with flute, also. I remember that, as I heard for that next year how it was wild to see the worship leader switch to three different instruments in one set. I also remember it, because my little finger felt a little sore that day.  For the record: I continued to play bass for about 6 more months with that glittery gold bass.

My piano students have asked to see my "bass hand reach" on the piano over the years, and I have occasionally felt that pinky... when it was being forced to do something it didn't feel like doing that particular day. It's the only reason I haven't played the guitar. I'd like to play the guitar, but it won't let me press it down and it hurts. {unless I play left handed, and I've learned lessons from my "overachiever" days of 1999.}

Why am I telling you this odd fact?

Today, we went to get our USCIS fingerprints. It was an easy appointment - in and out... for my husband. For me... not as quickly as I had hoped. Why? That wild little pinky of mine. We've had our fingerprints taken for this adoption process before, but immigration is even more "hard-core" than our FBI ones. They need to see every crevice of every finger. 

I didn't even notice it was a problem. There were a couple fingers she had to try twice. Then, when I thought it was over, she said, "Let me try that little finger again." She tried again. And again. FAIL. And again. She said, "It's just not going to take." I said, "No, please. It's a weird finger that doesn't like feeling stressed." {said the crazy lady} She said, "Maam. It's not going to take." I begged her to try again. She told me to relax it. I did. FAIL. She was ready to give up. I prayed, while saying, "One last time." 

The weird thing is that she was holding the pinky, so it wasn't literally popping up.  

She said, "It's only one finger." I told her I've heard of adoptions being held up for things that are smaller than this. I want my three kids. 

Dear Lord, please help this bizarre finger that you created do its job!

PASS

I was very happy to see the green light and that word, instead of fail.

I grabbed Ray from the waiting area and then we were both out. Praise God!

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. Psalm 139:13-4