I spent the whole day working at the church today. We moved furniture, boxes, food, etc. It was a lot of work, and I left the church feeling pretty good about all the work we accomplished. Driving home, I listened to a Nickel Creek song, “The Hands”:

The boy only wanted to give Mother something
And all of her roses had bloomed
Looking at her as he came rushing in with them
Knowing her roses were doomed
All she could see were some thorns buried deep
And the tears that he cried as she tended his wounds

And she knew it was love
It was one she could understand
He was showing his love
And that’s how he hurt his hands

He still remembers that night as child
On his mother’s knee
She held him close and she opened her bible
And quietly started to read
And seeing a picture of Jesus he cried out
“Momma, he’s got some scars just like me.”

And he knew it was love
It was one he could understand
He was showing his love
And that’s how he hurt his hands

I wasn’t so proud of what I had accomplished after that. What I did today wasn’t enough. Whatever I do can never be enough to come close to what Jesus did for us.