Six Little Arms, Two Hands

Six Little Arms, Two Hands – A Tribute to Sundays at Church

We sit, well, I sit

You all cuddle and cleave

Your hair in my face

Your faces in my sleeve

I have two hands

That’s all, just two

Yet six arms are clinging

And make it hard to move

It’s the weight of your need

The need of your hearts

That you ask me to fill

Yet I can only fill parts

I feel your small hands

Grip my legs, press my back

I try to hold each one

To offer what you lack

You need love, I know

You need security’s touch

But I’ve only two hands

And that’s not so much

There’s not enough of me

To be enough for you

An elbow, a pinky

Will just have to do

 

What have I done

To deserve your trust?

Nothing at all

Yet love me, you must

I lose my patience

My anger comes quick

I try to do perfect

But there is no sure trick

I long for you

To do what I do not

I beg of you

To be what I am not

Do good; be good

Get it right all the time

Control your attitude

Guard your young mind

But, oh, I do not model

What I ask of you

Forgive me, children

I’m still learning too

There’s not enough of me

To be enough for you

My best effort at love

Will just have to do

 

And love you I do

More than you’ll ever know

You are part of me

From me you grow

But I cannot keep

The fears at bay

I cannot drive

The hurts away

I cannot keep

Your path pristine

I cannot erase

The things you’ve seen

I cannot hold

You safely sound

I cannot be

Forever around

But your six little arms

They grasp, they cling

So I raise my two hands

To my Everything

 

Ah…therein lies the Truth

I must point to Another

I cannot be everything

As your flesh-bound mother

My love has limits

Not by choice for sure

For I am but you

Plus thirty years more

So, listen, my children

Do not look to me

Rather look where I look

Look beyond and see:

 

It all starts with the Truth

The way it really is

You are trapped in sin

And you were born amiss

I won’t tell you you’re good

Indeed, you fall short

For it’s a lie, dear children

That you were well at the start

You were created – CREATED!

With overwhelming meaning

But apart from your Creator

You will be left leaning

On a world filled with lies

Where deceit has sown

A story so complex

It can never be known

In that lies the scheme

Of the shrewd Enemy

Seeking glory not his own

Mocking reality

But His ways are poor copies

Pathetic echoes of the One

Who set this world into motion

Who commands the rising sun

He, Who is holy, perfect

He, Who is wholly good

We are not, dear children

We act not as we should

Your six little arms

Are covered in rot

Like my two hands

It is filth we have sought

But, oh, sweet Truth!

It is not about us

We are but creatures

Formed from the dust

In Him we find purpose

In Him we find life

And despite our filth

He has given us light

The Light of the world

In the form of man

Became whom He sought

Suffered by man’s hand

He took our rot

Our filth, our deception

For it was not what he wanted

At the earth’s conception

But through his death

He offers life of peace

Through his suffering

He makes hurt to cease

And this is for us

For you and for me

If I don’t show you this

I have failed miserably

So I’ll say it once more

Your worth is in Him

Apart from your Maker

There is nothing within

Confess your wayward heart

Trust in His grace alone

Seek His face, not mine

Cling to Him made known

I am just not enough

For your six little arms

I have but two hands

I cannot keep you from harm

But, oh, to show you Him

This, my loftiest aim

To show you how we can

Rest in His lovely name

Indeed, my highest goal

Is to tell you what’s real

About your ailing souls

And the One who can heal

 

Your six little arms

Are so precious to me

But my two weak hands

Are not enough, you see

So with my two hands

I’ll raise your six to Him

For I am but you

Another thirty years in

Thirty more years

Of sin and trial

Thirty more years

Of deceit and denial

Thirty more years

Of truth and grace

Thirty years closer

To seeing His face

You can cling to me

I don’t mind a bit

But I’ll cling to Him

And together we’ll sit

Eyes down, hearts prone

Before the throne of Grace

Hands raised, souls ready

For His glory to face