The sculptors work

I was born on earth, just this way

A diamond in the rough so to say

Thinking that this, this is who I am

But the sculptor, he had another plan

I wondered why this had to be

When the trials started to chip at me

If this is for good, why, why does it hurt so?

The drills that bore into the center of my soul

When I thought that I could handle no more

I just didn’t understand what it was for

Then the test started to come

It was all I could do to just hold on

When the fires scorched me at my heart

I was wondering, where was god, what was his part?

I did not realize that it was the sculptor’s hand

That was molding me; I could not see his plan

I thought I was through, I thought I was done

But then the master started to shape my son

I thought I would break I nearly died

Broken and shattered, torn up inside

I had no choice, I could not continue

I had used up all my strength, all my sinew

I was incapable of bearing more

Quietly, humbly, I knelt to the floor.

I was in utter despair

Tears in my eyes,

The lord heard my prayer

“Patients my child

Look at what you’ve become,

WE will get through this,