This morning at church, I read this poem which I wrote in response to a verse in Isaiah. The verse is about God holding our hand – I love the intimacy of it. I wrote it a while ago, but Good Friday feels like a good day to share it.
Hands
Isaiah Forty-one, Thirteen:
“I am the Lord your God” (it says)
“And I, the Lord, take hold of your right hand
And I, the Lord, say do not fear.”
I love this verse – I understand
The comfort that it brings; the praise
It calls for, and the peace that should appear.
But how can hands that formed the stars hold mine?
How could hands that crafted day and night
And dark and light, and wrong and right
Hold hands as weak and sore and wrong as mine?
Our Father loves a metaphor
And loves to also make them true.
Isaiah spoke of hands he hadn’t seen
But we can speak of hands that were –
The human hands of a Nazarene
Of hands that Mary loved and knew
In days of gold and frankincense and myrrh.
But how can hands so full of life hold mine?
How could hands that crafted land and sea
And lion and flea, and you and me
Hold hands as insignificant as mine?
Those hands, both human and divine,
Grew stronger, laboured – knew their worth
But chose the bounds of our humanity
They blessed and touched and calmed and prayed;
The wonder of His ministry
Is that those humble hands on earth
Began to heal what they had also made.
But how can hands that never sinned hold mine?
How can hands that healed the ill, that made storms still, that did God’s will
Hold hands as disobedient as mine?
Those fully human hands of Christ,
Those channels for God’s miracles,
Had one last, perfect miracle inside –
When nails cut through flesh and skin
And, by those hands, He hung and died.
Then rose up, love made visible!
Defeated death and took away my sin!
And that’s how hands that saved the world hold mine.
How hands that bled and died, came back to life, now glorified,
Hold hands as weak and sore and wrong as mine.
And power that made the world can yet
Condense itself enough to fit
A palm in mine – as once Isaiah knew.
The Lord can take my fragile hand in His
Remembering His human hands
And all that they had grace enough to do.
And He can tell us not to be afraid
And we can hold the hand by which we’re made.
Powerful, thanks for sharing. And Blessed Easter to you and your family!
I’m Orthodox, so Easter is next week for me.
Thank you Emma!
Absolutely lovely, Simon.
A beautiful poem for meditation. Thank you for sharing .
Such a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing it.
You expressed the wonder and mystery of God’s love and the mystery of Easter so well. Glad you shared it on Good Friday. It blessed me. He is risen indeed!
Blessing on this Holy Week. Thank you for sharing your Poem.
Lovely poem, thanks for sharing!
This is so beautifully done, Simon! You’ve painted such a vivid picture of His amazing love and grace for us, with your words. Thanks for sharing! :)
This is so beautifully done, Simon! You’ve painted such a vivid picture of His amazing love and grace for us, with your words. Thanks for sharing! :)
What a beautiful response to that verse. Thank you so very much. I also felt moved to share a poem of mine on the blog on Easter this year. The calling out of our own creative activity is one of the great gifts of being touched by God’s hand.
So beautifully done.