Hands Of Love

The Father holds out hands to me,
The scars of love shine through,
Why should I try to hide from Him,
When He is one with You?

You gave Your life that I might know,
How true His love will be,
He does not hide His love away,
But pours it out on me.

Why do I fear this love of God,
Assume He’ll bring me pain,
I trust Him for a little while;
Then run and hide again.

I know that I should stand up strong,
Declare the truth I’ve seen,
Wherever I had need of Him,
That’s where my Lord has been.

But then I falter and I quake,
Withdraw into my shell,
Instead of drawing close to You,
I feel like I’m in hell.

I do not chose to stray from You,
And yet somehow I do.
Why can’t I stay where I belong,
Within Your love so true?

Say, who will draw me back again,
To where I long to be?
The very One from whom I hide,
Persists in calling me.

For deep within my hurting soul,
Your Spirit doth remain,
And every time I fall away,
You call me home again.

Your door to home is open wide,
However far I stray,
Though times I feel I’m far from You,
Yet still You hear me pray.

For You reside within me,
You hear my every thought;
Your Spirit sorts my muddled words,
Till they say what they ought.

I reach to take Your hands outstretched,
And find You’re grasping mine,
You never doubted when I did,
You, know that I am Thine.

© Ailsa Yates 19-20/11/2000

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