So I am partially disabled with respect to my wrists and hands. Category “repetitive stress injury”, class “typed too much”, and increasingly often it hurts too badly for me to work.
It has occurred to me that if any God in my tradition understands this, it must be Hephaistos. His disability is a different category than mine, of course: a mobility disability, a limp, possibly (in modern terms) part- or full-time use of a wheelchair. I’ve none of those. But surely He understands what it’s like to be unable to do something necessary or desired because of unaccommodated physical limitations—to be, well, physically disabled.
(Now, to be fair, I do have accommodations for this disability. It’s just that, even so…)
I believe I shall start to pay cultus to Hephaistos, properly, instead of just as part of a proper Khalkeia celebration. A stick of frankincense incense, and Homeric Hymn 20 in Athanassakis’s translation, and if my hands hurt less today I would practice my metal-stamping in His honor.