One of the greatest privileges of writing music is being trusted with someone else's story. Some stories are filled with joy. Others are marked by wounds that have remained hidden for years... Hands of Heaven grew from one of those stories.

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As I listened, I couldn't help but think about the words of Jesus in John 3. We often remember this chapter because of God's incredible love for the world, yet only a few verses later Jesus speaks about light and darkness. He reminds us that those who live by the truth come into the light. Not to be condemned, but because healing begins when we stop hiding.

That truth became the heartbeat of this song.

There are wounds that cannot be seen, burdens no one else knows we are carrying, shame that was never ours to own, and pain that quietly shapes the way we see ourselves, our relationships, and even our future.

Sometimes we carry those things for years, not because we don't love God or because our faith is weak, but because hurt has a way of convincing us that silence is safer than being seen.

Yet God's invitation has always been the same: bring it into the light. Not so He can expose us, but so He can heal us.

One lyric that continues to stay with me is:

                           "I need the hands of Heaven reaching for me now."

I love that line because it is the honest prayer of someone who has reached the end of carrying something alone. It isn't a cry of defeat; it's the beginning of surrender.

Sometimes a new season of life has a way of revealing places within our hearts that still need healing. A new relationship, marriage, parenthood, or simply a fresh beginning can awaken a desire to finally lay down burdens we've carried for far too long.

Not because God is reopening old wounds, but because He lovingly prepares us for what lies ahead.

He doesn't ask us to carry yesterday's chains into tomorrow's calling.

The bridge may be my favorite part of the song.

                                  "There is no shame You hold against me...
                                   No chain You cannot break...
                                   I am not what I've been carrying...
                                   I am who You say I am now."

Those words remind me of Paul's promise in 2 Corinthians 5:17 that anyone who is in Christ is a new creation. The old has passed away, and the new has come. That is the heart of the Gospel.

Our identity is never determined by what has happened to us. It is determined by the One who created us, redeemed us, and calls us His own.

At its heart, Hands of Heaven is not a song about trauma. It is a song about freedom, the freedom Christ offers to every heart weighed down by shame, fear, regret, or pain. It is the freedom to step into a new season knowing that yesterday does not have the final word.

Sometimes freedom begins with one quiet prayer.

                             "Lord... break these chains."

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And sometimes healing begins the moment we discover we were never meant to carry them alone.

Because the hands of Heaven are still reaching...

Still healing...

Still restoring...

And still reminding every wounded heart that, in Christ, darkness never has the final word.