Tarnishing Hands

Help us not to touch the glory,

Of the great Gospel story,

With our tarnishing hands.

May we ever yield You praises,

For the various phases,

Of missions across the lands.

There’s a great work to be done;

There’s a wide world to be won.

Our arms can’t be extended,

But Yours are never ended,

They reach to every mortal man.

 

Let us ever place the honor

On our Heavenly Father,

For the smallest deeds conceived.

You helped us pray the prayer;

Moved the mountain that was there,

When we first believed.

Man at best, is, oh so small.

In Your sight giants aren’t tall.

Our weakest spots show Your strength,

Our limitations Your length,

Man’s pride shows how he’s deceived.  –eab, ’76 APR