The Color of My Hands are Painted by My Heart

I say I want to do what's right

I say that I love the Lord with all my might

The Bible says "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks"

But the same can be said about my feet

When my heart wants to go I put on my shoes

And do whatever my hands find themselves to do

Paul said it best and evil is present

And all the wrong I want tries to take over my essence

But the devil is a liar

Gold will come out of this fire

Strength is what these trials produce

Gone are the thoughts of the noose

Free of my shackles I shake them loose

Now with a home that is swept and garnished

I begin the process of what we call furnishing

Where the imprint left from the heavy lack of self worth

Now lays self respect ; confidence banked in the hearth

And where hurt hung next to shame

You see love and Jesus' name

And the front door which used to be opened and swing freely

Is now locked and hidden is the key

Placed in the hands of Someone much more capable

Trusted in the Hands in which all things are possible

Hands to the home and as long as they're clean

I know to Christ is where I lean

But if my hands come away red and dirty

I know the altar is where I bend my knew

Thankful for a God who gives new mercies

Even for a human like me.