September 30, 2010

Driftwood

Mighty waves they crash and roar; rocks abound upon this shore.

Blown and buffeted yet I stand; steadied by His nail-pierced hand.

Driftwood tumbles at my feet.

Twisted limbs so gnarled and grey settled in the sand that day.

Bathed in salt and weather worn there is a beauty in its form.

Just like this driftwood in the sand, is my life in His hands.

Concealed under water and debris God is at work shaping me.

The Master Carpenter carves and makes

A work of art that reflects His grace.

Earthly eyes can scarcely see the beauty that He works in me.

Yet His image bearer I will be.

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