When my heart He began to break
I resisted it with fear.
Torn and ripped, profusely bleeding
I’d not let anyone near.
Then I cried unto the Master
Please, mend my heart again.
He began, but He knew what it needed
Joints of tenderness: the glue to mend.
He said, See the tiny pieces?
As He took each piece in hand.
These are breaks I had to make
They were all necessary for My Plan.
In making something I can use
I see sections too hard to bend.
They must be movable pieces
Able to adjust as I intend.
For this is not a one-time thing
Breaking one’s will must happen often.
You need a glue that is flexible
A joint that I can soften.
As He melted me with tenderness
I could not see why.
I finally yielded to His skill
But first I had to die.
At last back on the wheel
Happy to have made it there.
Amazed that He chose me to be
Something He would repair.
So now I don’t resist
When a tear I see appearing.
I just say, God break me all You need
And I’ll not be one that’s fearing.
Written by Sherry Bleeker
© 8/4/01
