My Husband's Hands

I noticed a few weeks ago my husband's hands. They have big and small cuts. There is dirt under the nails and embedded in the creases of the skin. They look worn and well worked. But as I looked at them, I realized: Here is beauty in an unlikely place. These hands are battered because they work hard to provide for me. I was humbled by the sight of these hands. And felt undeserving of such love. Beauty in something not viewed the same by others. Beauty in the scars, cuts, and dirt. Much like the CROSS of our beloved Lord: beauty in an unlikely place.
See Jesus on that cross. He is covered in blood, deep wounds, and is crying out in anguish. Can anyone see the beauty in this? Our Saviour, pouring out His Life for ours. Giving what only God could give. Beauty in a most unlikely place. Paying a debt that He didn't owe and that we could not even hope to pay. We are not worthy of such love.
O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down, now scornfully surrounded with thorns, thine only crown: how pale thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn! How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn! 2. What thou, my Lord, has suffered was all for sinners' gain; mine, mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain. Lo, here I fall, my Savior! 'Tis I deserve thy place; look on me with thy favor, vouchsafe to me thy grace. 3. What language shall I borrow to thank thee, dearest friend, for this thy dying sorrow, thy pity without end? O make me thine forever; and should I fainting be, Lord, let me never, never outlive my love for thee.