“God loves to take despised, broken, messy situations and people and use them as trophies of grace.” -Brent Deedrick
Despised, broken, rejected, and used-
A disaster of my own making.
Bruised, battered, tired, and afraid-
A fragile mess, constantly breaking.
A light touch of wind and I fall apart;
A slight push, and I topple over,
Tossed by the waves of a turbulent life,
No shelter with which to take cover.
But then Heaven opens, the King stoops down;
He takes me in His scarred, loving arms:
“I’ve chosen you, you are My child;
You are now safe from all harm.”
He picks up my pieces, my shame and despair;
He wipes all the tears from my face.
He molds me and makes me a new, holy thing,
A beautiful trophy of grace.
All of my ashes He makes beautiful-
I’m no longer a scandalous mess.
He takes away the darkness of my heart
And makes me a child of promise.
Now I belong to Him—I’m His, and He’s mine;
I’m hid in the shade of His wings.
I’m no longer broken; I’m a trophy of grace,
And my soul has a new song to sing.