Healing

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I am broken.
Sorrow and hurt plague my soul.
My body is worn and weak.
My spirit is depressed and meek.
Dread for tomorrow play at me.
My life is in vain.
The strain delays my days.
How do I cope without hope.

I am broken.
Then He came on the wings of a dove.
With His precious love He sings to me,
The Lord picked up the pieces
He gathered them all up.
He takes each piece in His hands like sands of past.
He does more than repair me.
He carefully molds the clay into what He wants.

I was once broken, I thank the Lord that I was broken.
For if I wasn't, the Lord couldn't have made me better.
My soul is at peace, my spirit soars high.
My body is like new, able to do the Lord's work.
Broken no more.

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