In your hands.

 Here is a poem building on the theme, focusing on the surrender and safety of being held.

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In Your Hands

I place it in Your hands, Lord—

this frantic heart,this tangled thread,

this breath that hitches in my chest.

“Into your hands I commit my spirit.”(Psalm 31:5)

The words He breathed,becomes my rest.

I place them in Your hands, Lord—

the unseen fears,the looming night,

the questions with no answer now.

“Do not fear, for I am with you.”(Isaiah 41:10)

You trace the wound,and bend to bow.

These scars are in Your hands, Lord—

the prints that purchased every peace,

the ledger of my every debt.

“See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”(Isaiah 49:16)

My name is written there,and yet…

You hold me in Your hands, Lord—

no power can untwist Your grip.

“My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all;

no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand.”(John 10:29)

This is the seal,the fellowship.

The world is in Your hands, Lord—

the sparrow’s fall,the lily’s dress,

the rising and the setting sun.

“All things were created through him and for him.

He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”(Colossians 1:16-17)

Your sovereign will,Your work, is done.

So shape this clay within Your hands, Lord.

Though pressures come,I understand:

The Potter’s wheel,the fire’s demand

are guided by the Potter’s hand.

“We are the clay, you are the potter;

we are all the work of your hand.”(Isaiah 64:8)

And when my time has slipped like sand,

and strength has fled this weathered land,

I’ll whisper with my final breath,

into the silence that is death:

“Into your hands…”

And find it is not an end,

but being gathered home again,

to where the pierced hands never cease

to hold the universe in peace.

Amen.