Thinkin’ of the world spinnin’ out of control makes me sick
The same hands that made everything made me
Holes that were meant for me, in the hands that made me
On the cross that was mine to bear
Outstretched on the cross, blood dripping down
When I think that it could be better if I didn’t exist
Help me remember the same hands that bled, are the same that made me
I am precious to my father, I am held by the same hands that made me
I can’t imagine living as if I could do everything myself
In my hand is my life, broken and a mess
In your hand is the definition of grace, and holding me in love
His hands hold my heart, His hands bleed kindness
I know this reality is only temporary
Holding my hand as I walk through life
Gently leading as I learn to trust
I choose to live in your hands
Wrapped in my saviors arms, I need not worry
A love like a blanket swaddles me like a child on a cold winter night
Put me through fire, and I know your hands made me, and will protect me
Refine my soul, and take away the things that keep my eyes looking around