Parable: The Open Hands
A young man found himself reaching for his phone every time silence appeared. If he waited in line, he scrolled. If he sat on his bed, he scrolled. If he lay awake at night, he scrolled. His hands moved before his mind even noticed.
One afternoon, his mentor gave him a small task: “For one week, keep your hands open when you’re bored.”
The young man laughed. “That’s pointless.”
“Try it,” the mentor said. “Open hands don’t clutch for comfort without thinking.”
The first day, boredom came like a wave. His fingers twitched. He nearly reached for old habits, but he opened his hands instead—palms up. It felt awkward, almost childish. Yet in that awkwardness he noticed something: boredom wasn’t only emptiness. It was an invitation.
When his hands stayed open, his eyes started to look outward. He saw the dishes that needed washing. He saw a friend he could text encouragement to. He saw a Bible on the table. He saw a pair of shoes by the door and remembered he could go for a walk.
By the end of the week, he realized the battle wasn’t only about what his hands touched—it was about what his heart ran to when life felt dull. And little by little, he learned to turn boredom into a doorway back to purpose.
Moral:
Boredom is not a command; it’s a moment to choose. When your hands are open, your life can be redirected.