Fingers Clinched
I feel the thorns pierce my hand
Tearing my skin
And my heart
Blood trickles down my finger tips
Like crimson tears the drops fall in a rhythmic pattern to the floor
Still grasping the source of pain
I am afraid to let go...
My hand is sore
But my heart refuses to release
I hold even tighter,
And winch as the thorns are driven deeper
Caught in this Battle with my heart
My grip remains
As the blood continues to fall to the floor,
I hear you whisper in my ear
"Let Go"
Afraid of the wound that would be left exposed,
I am tempted to strengthen my grip once more
With the gentleness of a loving Father,
You ask me to release it into Your hand.
Your voice is one of comfort and assurance
That fills me with the strength I need.
Slowly, I open my hand, release....
And my wound begins to heal
