Into Your Hands I Commit My Spirit

The cry echoes from the cross down through the ages,

‘Into your hands I commit my spirit.’

It is a confident cry for

it is a genuine cry.

‘Into your hands I commit my spirit.’

He trusted his Father.

And he proved it.

By giving everything.

Everything he was,

Jesus gave.

Wholeheartedly.

‘Into your hands I commit my spirit.’

I need that trust,

that conviction,

that courage.

‘Into your hands I commit my spirit.’

Letting go of my claim on me?

My control on my life?

I want to.

Wholeheartedly.

But it’s hard.

And yet, the echo is there.

Resounding.

Oh, Father of all fearlessness,

help me catch hold of that echo.

Its love,

its genuineness,

and, in doing so, realise that

release is attainable.

I can let go of control.

And hand it to you.

‘Into your hands I commit my spirit.’

The strength of every echo is

its source.

The origin of freedom is

in you.

‘Into your hands I commit my spirit.’

Help me to listen to your echo.

All it means,

all it stands for.

Enable me to let it resound into my life and days.

May I never let your echo fade.

‘Into your hands I commit my spirit.’

 

Father God

You know tomorrow.

You know all my tomorrows.

It’s better that you know

and I don’t.

I know that really.

But sometimes I find it hard.

Help me to trust you.

To let go of needing to know.

To let your knowing be enough.

Amen

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