Monday, 3 May 2010

His Hands

Another poem from "Echoes of Eternity" by Michael R Abbott; used with permission -

His Hands

He is the Great Creator:
His hands the heavens made;
He formed the world around us,
His wisdom there displayed.
He gives to all His creatures
Their sustenance each day;
He listens to His children
And answers when they pray.

He left His throne in Glory,
To walk upon this earth:
His hands were weak and helpless,
Like any child at birth.
But soon He grew to manhood,
And even learnt a trade:
His hands were strong and able,
With skill in all He made.

He helped the poor and needy,
His heart for them did feel;
His hands were filled with virtue,
The sick and maimed to heal.
He broke the loaves and fishes,
Five thousand once to feed,
And oft, before the Father,
His hands in prayer did plead.

He set His sight on Calvary
And freely there did go,
The love of the Redeemer
For sinful men to show.
His hands were nailed with iron
Unto a cross of wood;
The blood flowed from the Saviour
To do poor sinners good.

He’s seated now in heaven,
Once more in power to reign,
But soon, as He has promised,
He will return again.
His hands still bear the nail prints,
A token of His love,
And all who take His hand in faith
Shall dwell with Him above.

His hands, with grace and power,
Hold me, and not mine Him:
Salvation is by promise
And not some earthly whim.
His hands are strong to keep me:
No power in heaven or earth
Can pluck me from His keeping;
What comfort is this worth!

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