Nickel Creek - The Hand Song
The boy only wanting to give mother something,
And all of her roses had bloomed.
Looking at him as he came rushing in,
knowing her roses were doomed.
All she could see were some thorns buried deep,
And tears that he cried as she tended his wounds.
And she knew it was love, it was what she could understand.
He was showing his love and that's how he hurt his hands.
He still remembers that night as a child, on his mothers knee.
She held him close and she opened her Bible, and quietly started to read.
Then seeing a picture of Jesus, he cried out:
"Mama he's got some scars just like me!"
And he knew it was love, it was what he could understand.
And all of her roses had bloomed.
Looking at him as he came rushing in,
knowing her roses were doomed.
All she could see were some thorns buried deep,
And tears that he cried as she tended his wounds.
And she knew it was love, it was what she could understand.
He was showing his love and that's how he hurt his hands.
He still remembers that night as a child, on his mothers knee.
She held him close and she opened her Bible, and quietly started to read.
Then seeing a picture of Jesus, he cried out:
"Mama he's got some scars just like me!"
And he knew it was love, it was what he could understand.
He was showing his love, and that's how he hurt his hands.
Now the boy is grown and moved out on his own.
When Uncle Sam comes along.
A foreign affair, but our young men are there.
And luck had his number drawn.
It wasn't that long till our hero was gone,
he gave to a friend what he learned from the cross.
That they knew it was love, it one they could understand.
He was showing his love, and that's how he hurt his hands.
It was one they could understand.
He was showing his love, and that's how he hurt his hands.
Now the boy is grown and moved out on his own.
When Uncle Sam comes along.
A foreign affair, but our young men are there.
And luck had his number drawn.
It wasn't that long till our hero was gone,
he gave to a friend what he learned from the cross.
That they knew it was love, it one they could understand.
He was showing his love, and that's how he hurt his hands.
It was one they could understand.
He was showing his love, and that's how he hurt his hands.
I can hardly sing along with that song without my voice cracking a little. I don't usually share my religion on my blog, but I think it would be verging on ingratitude not to this morning. Today is Easter and its the most sacred holiday of the year. Many people would argue that Christmas is more important, but as miraculous as was Jesus' birth, that birth wouldn't have meant much without his triumph over death, three days after being nailed to a cross.
We often talk about a Savior who died on the cross for us, but maybe less often, at least for me, do I think about what that really means. Jesus lived a perfect life and chose to suffer in the garden of Gethsemane for us. He felt every pain, sin, sorrow, trial and heartache that any one of us would ever go through, so he could KNOW what we are going through. I get such great comfort from that, I know, that no matter what I'm going through, my Savior knows what I feel. He knows me and he loves me. He showed his love for each of us by offering himself up as the sacrificial lamb.
Today is Easter the day we celebrate his return from the grave. Someday, we'll have the same opportunity. A lot of people write off my religious beliefs as wishful thinking. We say it's a hope for things to come, but it's more than just hope. I may not be overcome by "the rapture" or shake or quake with the power of the Holy Ghost like some, but I have a quiet understanding in my heart. I know that my Savior lives. I know he loves me, I know he died for me. I have a personal relationship with Him. My testimony is not something I, or anyone else can brush aside or write off. It's been a lifetime in the making and it builds a little each day.
We often talk about a Savior who died on the cross for us, but maybe less often, at least for me, do I think about what that really means. Jesus lived a perfect life and chose to suffer in the garden of Gethsemane for us. He felt every pain, sin, sorrow, trial and heartache that any one of us would ever go through, so he could KNOW what we are going through. I get such great comfort from that, I know, that no matter what I'm going through, my Savior knows what I feel. He knows me and he loves me. He showed his love for each of us by offering himself up as the sacrificial lamb.
Today is Easter the day we celebrate his return from the grave. Someday, we'll have the same opportunity. A lot of people write off my religious beliefs as wishful thinking. We say it's a hope for things to come, but it's more than just hope. I may not be overcome by "the rapture" or shake or quake with the power of the Holy Ghost like some, but I have a quiet understanding in my heart. I know that my Savior lives. I know he loves me, I know he died for me. I have a personal relationship with Him. My testimony is not something I, or anyone else can brush aside or write off. It's been a lifetime in the making and it builds a little each day.
Happy Easter everyone.
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