Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Put Your Hand in the Hand

This is definitely a random post.
But I woke up this morning singing the oddest song.
No idea where my memory bank found it.
It was a 1971 one hit wonder by Ocean called,
"Put Your Hand in the Hand."
What has impacted me are the lyrics (below),
that it reached #2 on the charts,
and that I woke up singing it.
The last line is the religious philosophy of our day.
To do what we must do,
we forget what He said and
we figure that He'll still make room.

There are many who believe—
yet live their lives in direct opposition to
the principles taught by the Man from Galilee.
And figure somehow it'll all work out in the end. 
The Man from Galilee continues to still the waters.
He continues to calm the seas.
But He doesn't just want our hands.
He wants our lives.
Whoever finds their life will lose it,
and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.

I am posting the awesome YouTube and lyrics,
classic 70's crazy fashion and ugly hair.
But I believe the Lord is speaking.
Holy Spirit, may I not forget what You say
and figure that You'll still make room.
Every time I look into the Holy Book,
I want to tremble.
I put my hand in Your hand today,
and give You all that goes with it.
The Father loves His Son and
has put everything into His hands.
John 3:35
I trust Your hands, Lord, 
and surrender my whole life to them.
Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the water
Put your hand in the hand of the man who calmed the sea
Take a look at yourself and then you can look at others differently
By putting your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.

Every time I look into the Holy Book I want to tremble
When I read about the part where the carpenter cleared the temple
For the buyers and the sellers were no different fellas
Than what I profess to be
And it causes me shame
To know we're not the people we should be.

My mama taught me how to pray before I reached the age of seven
She said, "There'll come a time when there'll probably be room in heaven"
But I'm feeling kinda of guilty 'bout the number of times
To do what we must do
We forget what He said and we figure
That He'll still make room






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