Broken
Just like a piece of precious china, that has shattered on the ground
I praise you that you are my mender, and every piece is to be found
I thank you that in my brokeness, you humbly allow me to see
That you withold no good from your children, and that includes me.
And when you choose to do so, it is only to help me see
That the greatest love I could experience, is to draw ever close to thee.
So I draw close to thee, with my broken heart in my hands
and I crawl into your arms, knowing that you understand.
You take your finger and gently wipe each tear away
At your feet my pain and burdens I do lay.
So I praise you, oh mender of my heart
I praise you that even in my brokeness, I am truly whole
and that even though the cares of this life certainly take their toll
You take your hand upon my heart, healing it once again
So if it means being broken in order for you to mend
May I always be broken, again and again and again.
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