When I look at the Saviour’s hands

What do I see?

I see hands that have

Worked hard

With wood in carpentry.

 

Hands that have known

A nick, a cut or two

As they moulded

And chipped away,

Making something of use

 

Callouses perhaps.

Scars on His fingers,

Maybe.

My Lord was not afraid

To live in reality.

 

Hands tanned brown

From being out of doors.

Town to town

He Walked

Calling sinners to

“Repent!

(For the Kingdom of Heaven

Is at hand)”

 

Hands that were used to

Cushion His precious head.

Sleeping rough at night,

Seeking the lost sheep,

He had no bed.

 

Hands that were raised up

In prayer before dawn.

Tears splashed down

On those hands

As the Father’s will

Sought.

 

Hands used to touching

What others would not dare

Lepers, the demon-possessed –

Our true condition

Before Him laid bare.

 

Hands that were warm,

Always giving

Never idle,

Full of holy life,

And truly living.

 

Hands that pointed to Truth

That held not back.

These hands were unafraid

To be attacked.

 

Hands that took

The nails –

He could have resisted.

Hard, cold, real nails

But He, for the Father’s will,

Persisted.

 

OH Lord, if the Church could only see

How far we are

From being,

Truly being

Your hands and Your feet.

 

How cold and limp

And lifeless our hands hang down

Too afraid of men now

To Call them to repent

From town to town.

 

Hands white from fear

Of speaking out the Truth.

Hands cold-

Keeping them safe

And aloof.

 

Hands that feel not

A tear drop in prayer

Hands that are only raised

At concerts

Or in the sporting sphere

 

And scars?

No.

Hands kept neatly manicured

We dare not break a nail.

In the Master’s service,

They tremble and flail.

 

Hands that are neatly folded

Asleep on our comfy beds

Hands that hide and cower

When opposition is met

 

Wake Up Church!

Stand up.

Raise your hands,

Heavenward!

For if not us His Body –

Then, WHO WOULD?

 

It is time

It is time

To Speak the Truth again.

Don’t let the devil your hands bind.

Stand in His strength

And point to the Saviour

For all men to find.

 

Will you let your hands go brown?

Will you let them be of use?

Will you get a nick or two for Him,

Just like Jesus did for you?