Scarred, but Sacred Hands

This morning as I was bowing in worship during our school's Easter chapel, I was reminded of something sacred. Something painful. Something beautiful and simple. I looked down at my hands. Clean, smooth, whole, unbeaten, unbroken... unscarred. These unbroken hands belonged to a broken being. A sinner. Of course then, I began to picture the hands of Jesus. Bloody, dirty, broken, tortured, pierced... scarred. Those hands belong to a perfect being. A Savior.

I began to cringe at the sight I saw in my head. But it didn't stop there... as the chapel service went on, I heard a nail being pounded onto a cross. I looked up and saw one of the stations where students literally place and nail their confession with a hammer on symbolic cross in the front. That constant sound throughout caused me to cringe even more... God doesn't deserve those hands. I, as a sinner, did. 

But what I keep being reminded of over and over again is that I could never have been the one to suffer like He did. Yeah, I deserve it... But His unconditional Love is greater than my sins. He loves me so much that He chose to die for me, so I didn't have to go through what I rightly deserved. He submitted to God's Will to be nailed to a cross because that meant choosing me, and to Him, that was worth it :)

We all know the story, right? He died on the cross and rose again, and now He's in Heaven watching over us. I believe although Jesus is perfect in every way, I still believe His hands still are scarred and pierced. I think when I get to Heaven, those still scarred hands will be just another reminder of His Love for me. What a day that will be when I get to bow at the scarred feet that walked this earth and died for me and this entire world. What a day that will be when I get to touch the scarred and sacred hands that are still holding this scarred and broken girl today.