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!
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