July 11, 2004

• In Church today my sister sang "His Hands" by Kenneth Cope (lyrics at the end of this entry). She was so beautiful. At twelve, she already has the sweet, sincere, and beautiful voice of an angel, hitting notes most people don't think a twelve year old even needs to hit. I must confess in my state of about-to-be-leaving-ness (45 days) I cried. I think I covered it well.

  I guess I was just so proud of her. And hearing her sing, "And I'll not rest Till I make of my hands what they could be; Till these hands become like those from Galilee" filled me with excitement as I marveled at our potential and of the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ. As her crystal notes rang out, "And then they pierce them, they pierce them. He lets them because of love" I could not sit still because of the euphoric joy wriggling inside me, brought to rest only with the sweet ending, "And though I'm not yet as I would be, He has shown me how I could be. I will make my hands Like those from Galilee."

  After she sang, Brother Zippi gave a wonderful talk on retaining the image of Christ in our countenances. It was so spiritual.

  After Church Brother Clement and I went over and administered the sacrament to Brother Knudsen. He's been through a lot, and is bed ridden. His attitude, however, sparkles. He has the image of Christ in his countenance, which really made this a great experience for me. I will be and have been praying for their family.

  His Hands, Kenneth Cope

  His hands, tools of creation
  Stronger than nations
  Power without end
  And yet through them
  We find our truest friend

  His hands, sermons of kindness
  Healing men's blindness
  Halting years of pain
  Children waiting to be held again

  (Chorus) His hands would serve His whole life through
  Showing men what hands might do
  Giving, ever giving endlessly
  Each day was filled with selflessness
  And I'll not rest
  Till I make of my hands what they could be
  Till these hands become like those from Galilee

  His hands lifting a leper, warming a beggar
  Calling back the dead
  Breaking bread, five thousand fed
  His hands, hushing contention
  Pointing to heaven
  Ever free of sin
  Then bidding man to follow Him

  (Chorus)

  His hands clasp in agony
  As He lay pleading, bleeding in the garden
  While just moments away
  Other hands betray Him out of greed
  Shameful greed
  And then His hands are trembling
  Straining to carry
  The beam that they'd be nailed to
  As he stumbles through the streets
  Heading for the hill on which He'd die
  He would die
  They take His hands
  His mighty hands, those gentle hands
  And then they pierce them, they pierce them
  He lets them because of love

  From birth to death was selflessness
  And clearly now I see Him with His hands
  Calling to me
  And though I'm not yet as I would be
  He has shown me how I could be
  I will make my hands
  Like those from Galilee

  • 11:33 pm
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