HANDS

His hands, my hands, our hands reaching out in love,

Obeying all instruction from our Father God above.

From Jesus’ holy hands pierced to set us free,

Not needing nails to hold him there, just His love for me.

To the hands of flesh I offer Him out of humility.

His hands, my hands, our hands displaying servanthood,

Not choosing evil with our will, but only used for good.

With pure hearts and clean hands we serve our Lord and brothers,

Giving allegiance to our Lord, after Him all others.

His hands, my hands, our hands healing hearts and lives,

Not insisting on my way but allowing His will to rule our lives.

Teaching us in His Word if we seek holiness as He is holy,

Not one can snatch us from His hand, if we, for Him, live solely.

His hands, my hands, our hands cherishing the poor,

Pure religion is to devote ourselves to them forevermore.

Made by God to carry one another’s burdens, we are,

Nurturing and affirming hands help carry one another far.

His hands, my hands, our hands accepting all the same,

Not respecting any above the rest, in precious Jesus’ name.

Living sacrificially, impressing on our children His commands,

Daily living by them, tying them as symbols on our hands.

His hands, my hands, our hands reaching out in love,

Fitting well together just like a hand in glove.

Ginny Bain Allen