05/04/2026
Reverence was lost, the kissing of hands abandoned entirely
bloodied and bruised were the hands of our king that day.
There was crudely shaped iron pierced through the hands of a saviour.
But more than His deteriorating body,
His hands held us on that day.
Our very own guilt, sin and shame drove that nail through His flesh.
The devastating pain and suffering He endured that He might uphold the very ones who pierced Him.
His hands, which He had presented and brought to us as empty,
became the instrument by which He would accomplish His purpose
and claim victory over everything.
Look upon the hands of your saviour and tell me what you see.
The calloused hands of a carpenter, empty but for the blood that stains them?
Or is it the most pure act of love this world has ever known.
I look upon my joy and salvation.
I look upon the earth’s greatest injustice that is my one saving grace.
I look upon my Jesus,
my saviour and my king.
He carried an immense weight that day,
greater than that of the cross or His body which was held there,
all this for His beloved.
I am in awe of this man and He is my beloved.
I would kiss the hands of my saviour all day long
if it meant nearness with Him.
