Guilty Hands

[Hook before Hook] You ever kneel at an altar With dirt under your fingernails From the same sin you repented of Last Sunday? Yeah. Me too. [Hook] Been washing these hands for years Still see it written in the lines of my palms Every time I raise them in worship Feel like I'm lying to God Guilty hands raised to a holy God Guilty hands won't let me forget what I'm not But You reached down and took them anyway Pulled me close with these guilty hands [Verse 1] I know the verse. I've quoted it to other men in broken places. There's therefore now no condemnation — said it looking in their faces. I believe it for the room. I believe it for the shattered. I recite it like a doctor who prescribes what he can't take Because somewhere between the doctrine and the mirror something breaks And the man who preaches grace on Sunday Is the man on his knees Saturday night Begging God to make him mean it Begging God to make it right Like the blood was wide enough for everyone except the weight Of my specific, and my particular, and the thing I did at twenty-eight [Pre-Chorus] And still I raise them These hands You already know I got nowhere left to hide them So I'm lifting what I owe [Hook] Been washing these hands for years Still see it written in the lines of my palms Every time I raise them in worship Feel like I'm lying to God Guilty hands raised to a holy God Guilty hands won't let me forget what I'm not But You reached down and took them anyway Pulled me close with these guilty hands [Verse 2] Used to count the days like they would add up to a verdict Like if I stayed clean long enough eventually I'd earn it Thirty days, sixty, a year of decent living Thinking time would do what blood already finished But shame don't run a clock — it doesn't honor distance traveled It finds me at the altar when the worship starts unraveling I fell apart in front of a God I told myself I loved And what I got back wasn't anger It was worse. He wasn't angry. He was already walking toward me. I was still trying to find the words He was already at the door. I was still rehearsing the apology He already called me by my name. Not the name shame gave me. My name. [Pre-Chorus] And still I raise them These hands You already know I got nowhere left to hide them So I'm lifting what I owe [Hook] Been washing these hands for years Still see it written in the lines of my palms Every time I raise them in worship Feel like I'm lying to God Guilty hands raised to a holy God Guilty hands won't let me forget what I'm not But You reached down and took them anyway Pulled me close with these guilty hands [Bridge] He wasn't angry when He saw me He was running He wasn't calculating what I owed Him He was running Before I got the apology rehearsed He already had the robe Before I finished being sorry He already called me home These hands that failed Him He reached for first These hands that broke it He called His church Not because they're worthy Because He is These guilty hands He made His These guilty hands He made His I came in dirty He called me Son He called me Son before I finished confessing what I'd become And I don't understand it I don't deserve it I can't explain it I just know He didn't flinch He didn't wait He didn't calculate the cost of touching something this broken He just reached These guilty hands He made His These guilty hands He made His [Outro] I didn't clean my hands before I came He took them dirty I didn't earn the right to lift them He lifted them Himself I've been standing at this sink for years Trying to feel like I belong in His presence And He's been standing at the door the whole time Saying You already do These guilty hands He made His These guilty hands He made His