The Nail Prints in His Hands
His hands and feet still bear the marks
From hanging on the tree;
The nail-scars tell a silent tale
That speaks to you and me.
They mark humiliation’s day
When Jesus bore our sin;
In lonely shame He died for us
That we might enter in.
They mark His triumph over death
For He who died now lives,
And by the power of that life
New life to us He gives.
They’re marks of pain and yet of peace,
Of everlasting grace;
Reminders for eternal day
That He has bought our place.
He bears the nail-prints in His hands
Which reach to you and me
To offer life, salvation, joy
For all eternity.
Christina Joy Hommes
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