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The same hands that clutched at stable straw
Reach to you to hold your shaking shoulders
Hands that reached for Mary's breast
That picked up Joseph's tool at his request
Hands that held the scroll in the temple
That gestured to demonstrate wisdom to the 'learned'
That were spread out over the storm
These are the hands that gently touched the leper
And lifted the fish and the bread
May these hands be felt forever by you
Hands that never caressed a wife's form
Never knew the warmth of that love
Hands that burned with Life and Love for all
Trained for precision with the plane
Strengthened to drive the awl
Hands humbly spread out for prayer
Hands that lifted the little girl from death to life
These hands touched the broken and wounded
They wove a whip and wielded it with holy rage
They never laid a blow that wasn't holy
These are the hands that long to lift you
Hands to pull you from the stinking mire
Hands that washed the dear ones' feet
These hands that clenched and plead for mercy

But yielded and accepted the Father's will
These are the hands that the spikes went through
That held the weight of a Savior torn and broken
Hands that carried everything for you
Torn and bleeding but always holding you
Never flinching, no matter how great the pain
These hands will hold a cup at a banquet
And finally take the hand of a worthy bride
I pray you will be there, hand in hand
But to make it to that moment
Consider well what you will do
With your own hands

Stephen Pursell, 1/14/03