“…I will not forget you. See, I have [engraved] you on the palms of my hands”
--Isaiah 49:15-16
Ever really think about this verse? Engraved. Webster says it means “to impress deeply; to form by incision”. Ever think about how your very own name is engraved – deeply impressed, formed by incision – into the hands of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?
When I was about twelve I met the “love of my life”: BB, let’s call him. I was totally enamored with BB. We were in the youth group together at the church where my dad was pastoring at the time. He was about two years older than I was, had the most attractive mullet carved into his coarse, dirty-blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tall, lean and strong…every eighth grader’s dream. The sun rose and set on BB.
My family soon moved about two hours away, and the long-distance romance flourished. My heart leapt every time a letter from him arrived. He wrote me poems, and said he would always be mine, and I would always be his. It was euphoric.
I treasured the relationship I had with BB. I wanted to have a way to tell the world how much I loved him, and how we would always be together. Finally I had the perfect idea: I would use the pin of my broach to carve his initials into my ankle! If I kept it from healing properly, with any luck it would scar, and his initials would always be there. Well, it worked. Unfortunately, the romance didn’t.
So now, fast forward about twenty years. I am married (not to BB or anyone with his initials) and have three darling children. My husband serves the Lord faithfully as a staff member at a large church. I teach children’s choir. I lead worship for women’s events. I am on the praise team. Yet there, deep in my skin, are the faint remnants of BB’s initials, forever engraved on the inside of my left ankle. Short of amputation or plastic surgery, the scars of that long-forgotten romance remain.
Such a sad, temporal comparison to that which my Savior did for me…He loved me dearly. He treasured the relationship He had with me. He wanted the world to know just how much He loved me, and how we would always be together. And, so, He engraved my name into His hands. My name is forever, purposefully, pressed deeply, formed by incision into His hand. Nothing can erase an engraving…nothing can hide it. I am His and He is mine. How great is the love of my God.
Exhilarating liberty mixed
With undeniable shame…
That He who bore my sin
Has on His hands engraved my name.
--Lisa Price
--Isaiah 49:15-16
Ever really think about this verse? Engraved. Webster says it means “to impress deeply; to form by incision”. Ever think about how your very own name is engraved – deeply impressed, formed by incision – into the hands of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?
When I was about twelve I met the “love of my life”: BB, let’s call him. I was totally enamored with BB. We were in the youth group together at the church where my dad was pastoring at the time. He was about two years older than I was, had the most attractive mullet carved into his coarse, dirty-blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tall, lean and strong…every eighth grader’s dream. The sun rose and set on BB.
My family soon moved about two hours away, and the long-distance romance flourished. My heart leapt every time a letter from him arrived. He wrote me poems, and said he would always be mine, and I would always be his. It was euphoric.
I treasured the relationship I had with BB. I wanted to have a way to tell the world how much I loved him, and how we would always be together. Finally I had the perfect idea: I would use the pin of my broach to carve his initials into my ankle! If I kept it from healing properly, with any luck it would scar, and his initials would always be there. Well, it worked. Unfortunately, the romance didn’t.
So now, fast forward about twenty years. I am married (not to BB or anyone with his initials) and have three darling children. My husband serves the Lord faithfully as a staff member at a large church. I teach children’s choir. I lead worship for women’s events. I am on the praise team. Yet there, deep in my skin, are the faint remnants of BB’s initials, forever engraved on the inside of my left ankle. Short of amputation or plastic surgery, the scars of that long-forgotten romance remain.
Such a sad, temporal comparison to that which my Savior did for me…He loved me dearly. He treasured the relationship He had with me. He wanted the world to know just how much He loved me, and how we would always be together. And, so, He engraved my name into His hands. My name is forever, purposefully, pressed deeply, formed by incision into His hand. Nothing can erase an engraving…nothing can hide it. I am His and He is mine. How great is the love of my God.
Exhilarating liberty mixed
With undeniable shame…
That He who bore my sin
Has on His hands engraved my name.
--Lisa Price