these frail hands.

Well folks, it is done. Tickets have been purchased. I will be arriving in Rome on Monday, October 18th after spending a week in Illinois with my dear friend Stephanie. Endless thanks are due to those who helped to make this possible be it through financial support or prayer or in other ways like high fives and smiles. It is a crazy thing to think that this is actually happening, that so many steps have been taken to lead me to this particular place and another huge step has come. Now I really just need to pack and go……and then…well, we shall see.

One of my favorite bands ever is called Brave Saint Saturn, and one of my favorite songs of theirs is titled ‘These Frail Hands,’ which is where I get the theme of this blog, mainly the website name itself. The song deals with all the ridiculous and stupid things that happen in this world  in which we live and yet how in all that despair the love and hope of God still prevails. It is a powerful message that I try and cling to when I get fed up with people being jerks on both small and large scales, which tends to happen with some regularity. Honestly, it is a source of great bitterness for me.

But this song, the title especially, mean something even more to me. I often feel that I don’t necessarily have anything particularly useful to offer the Kingdom of God, that my hands are indeed frail. And thus it is forever strange to me that I have been given so many opportunities to serve my guts out for Jesus and people. Maybe I feel like I do a good job, maybe I feel like I suck, but no matter what, the opportunities keep arising and God keeps leading me to other things. And I have to ask why? Why do I get such an honor to serve? Why me of all people who is only mildly good at a few things? Over time I have come to realize that it isn’t really about what I can bring to the table. Jesus calls to Peter and the others and tells them that He will make them fishers of men, the point being that they are not yet fishers of men. They know how to fish with nets, but they know nothing of working for the message of Christ. And yet still He calls. I believe it was my good friend Chauncey who shared with me the thought that God doesn’t necessarily call the equipped, He equips the called. This is true when calling the disciples and I believe it is true today. I may not feel very ready or good at much, but I know the feeling in my chest, I have felt it before, and it is the feeling of something I know I have to do. And that feels like a big thing to say, but I have listened to that pull in the past and it has not disappointed. All in all, I try to follow Jesus as best as I can (try being the key there) and to love Him and love others. And maybe that willingness and seeking heart are what He looks for. But whatever the case I know that these hands will continue to be frail unless Christ Himself gives them strength. It is something just to know that there is some work out there for these hands to do. In fact, it is one of the the more humbling things ever.

And so I go to Rome not knowing how in the world I will be able to do anybody any good. But I suppose we shall just have to pray and see what happens.

There’s my thought for the day.

And here are the lyrics, if you were wondering.

These Frail Hands

In this broken place where I was born
It seems there is no peace
And the very soil we walk upon
Is filled with tears that never cease
And you can trace the scars of hopelessness
Like sweat upon the backs
Of all the outcast and downtrodden
Water slips through cracks
Hold on, hold tight
And I am overwhelmed with grief
To see such suffering
For those who lack the voice to speak
All those of us left stuttering
May this not prevail
Dear Lord, Your love will never fail

And these frail hands
They tremble as they pen perhaps their last
And these weak words
Can never say what cannot be surpassed

When the concrete of the world
Becomes too cumbersome to lift
And the cataracts of fear and doubt
Cloak truth beyond what we can sift
And darkness, darkness bleeds its way
When crippling anguish clouds our sight
The ghosts of dusk have bared their teeth
Set their claws to bring the night
Hold on, hold tight
Darkness can’t perceive the light
Though lightlessness has chilled us numb
And though its wings may cloud the skies
The dark shall never overcome
Light of the World
Your love has never failed

And these frail hands
They tremble as they pen perhaps their last
And these weak words
Can never say what cannot be surpassed
I need Your love
And most of all I want to feel Your peace
I need Your love
Let everything that You are not decrease