Sometimes I wonder if these hands are too weak to embrace the ones I love most.
Sometimes I wonder if these hands are too contracted to unclasp and let go.

Sometimes I wonder if these hands are too heavy for anyone to hold.

Oh, how heavy these palms are.

I offer these to you with hopes that I’ll be able to deny myself,

You pry my fingers apart as you put my past on the shelf,

And I feel the grace between my nails calming my hands back into my lap. 

I get so tired doing such a simple task.

All I am and all I have to bring - though I don’t know what that might be - I give to You my everything. 


How I just want you to use these hands.

How I just want you to hold them.

Death came knocking today, but I did not answer.
It will come again tomorrow, but I will not answer.
I am tired but not ready to sleep. My heart is in pain
my soul longing to weep.  
Day after day, death will come to my door.
She will try to take me forever more.
Night after night death will stand by my bedside.
I’m too tired to run and too tired to hide.
One day I will answer the call and go on my peaceful way,
but not today, not today.