The Carpenter's Hands

The Carpenter's Hands
Are scarred with years of work,
Whittling away at His wood,
Shaping.
Building.
Sculpting
the foundations of humanity.

The years of toil has made them
Strong.
Sure.
Steady
able to move delicately on the wood,
dancing in its natural grooves,
flowing effortlessly with the grain.

These same hands know more
than just the wood with which they work
They have washed feet.
Stilled oceans.
Restored sight.
Healed the lepers and the lame.
Raised the dead.
Broke bread.
Grasped my own.

The Carpenter's Hands
Embedded with nails.