Hands

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