The day--a dull, rainy one--had dampened the mood of my surroundings and seemed to affect everyone’s spirits. I passed one individual, and a negative thought glided down the corridors of my mind. Easily. Undisturbed. And frustrating. To add to my dilemma, each time I attempted to roll my burden on the Lord, it seemed to boomerang right back at me.
The radio was playing as I entered my car and heard the radio singers proclaim, “My name is written on His hands!” Then it smote me. The thought that the name of that precious Christian, of whom I had entertained negative thoughts earlier that day, was graven on His palms! I saw that name etched upon His nail-scarred hands. How my heart condemned me, as I considered how my Lord views each of His own so tenderly, and I begged God for that same heart of love--to see all believers as precious, their names being etched upon the flesh of the One who paid their ultimate sacrifice. Indeed, they are, as I am, graven on His palms!
Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands…(Isa. 49:16).
Reading through Isaiah some years ago, I happened upon this gem in my own Bible reading. The following poem resulted from my musings upon that text:
Graven on the palms of His Almighty hands
I am e’er remembered; forsaken not I stand.
Hast my God forgotten? Doth He hide his face?
No, I live before Him; He showers me with grace.
‘Tis He, my Love, protects me, encompassing with care,
Eternal purposes ordained before a world was there.
And on those wounded hands, through those nail-ravaged palms
He sees me through His precious blood and cheers me all day long.
And now I stand before Him, redeemed and full of grace
Cast down but not forsaken, I cherish this, His place.
And though the world forget me, my God looks from above;
For He has graven me upon His nail-scarred hands in love!