His Hands

His hands were those of a carpenter, rough yet soft and true
His hands were gentle to the touch, made for me and you.
He had to know how to mold us and make us in His image to be
Yes, His hands were perfect for all the world to see.

Those perfect hands were outstretched to comfort and ease pain.
I wonder what those soldiers thought that they had to gain?
When they drove those ugly nails and filled them each with a scar.
Did they not know, that His Heart could not be marred.

He was determined, because with His Father He had talked.
He had already traveled down the road, the long and dreadful walk.
In His Heart the bad things were over, all He had gone through.
Now it was time to suffer just for me and you.

He didnít smile that day but cried out in agony and pain.
He then looked into the future and saw what we had to gain.
He then hung His Head and softly to the Father He spoke.
And upon His Head, the Fathers hand did stroke.

Its okay now, the Father spoke softly to His son.
The fight is finished, together the battle we have won.
Now go on down and from Satan take the keys.
Iíll give you the strength to bring them back to me.

I let you do all that you ask me to.
Now I the Father want to spend time with you.
You are my only son and you have suffered pain and disgrace.
Now come sit by me and watch this human race.

Lets see if they realize just exactly what you have done.
I wonder if just one of them could give up their only son.
Test of time will tell and that's all we have got for now.
But after the time is up, to you they will bow.

At least the ones who saw you give your life as a man.
They will reach out and take your nail scarred hand.
And I as your Father will look on with pride.
Knowing they are the ones you suffered for and died.

 

© By Harriett Dash  
2002