I fancy myself a mosaic,
a mosaic constructed by God.
Intricately made, passionately displayed,
beautifully humble, yet odd.
For I once was I clean sheet of glass,
free from blemish or flaw.
I was polished and buffed, fragile but tough,
pure and simple, yet raw.
What you must understand, is a clean pane of glass
reflects light with splendor and awe.
But it lacks dimension, lacks retention
and only shines on an area, small.
But God took notice of my flawless pane
and saw potential for greatness and use.
He knew it would sting, He knew I would scream,
but He knew I could withstand abuse.
So He sat down, alone, on His sturdy workbench
and slid my heart into a darkened sack.
Though it hurt Him to do, He knew what was True,
so He swung a hammer and felt me crack.
The first blow of the hammer, I lost control
and was broken by an evil disease.
It consumed my thoughts, consumed my body,
but His hand still held me with ease.
The next blow of the hammer, my father was gone
and the pain split through to my core.
My breaks turned to shatters, my heart was left tattered,
but He knew I could withstand more.
The final swing of the hammer and everything stopped,
I stared death in its formidable eyes.
My body was broken, the pain left a token,
but my spirit was ever alive.
The King then sat back, with the sack in His hand,
filled with my broken self.
He then gently restored me, gently He poured me
onto a magnificent, heavenly shelf.
With much care and patience, God pulled on His gloves
and began to sift through my remains.
He took His sweet time with a vision, divine,
and pulled pieces of virtue and pain.
One-by-one He gently placed the fractures He pulled
into an empty and pure frame.
While I struggled and grew, a battle ensued,
and He humbly took all the blame.
But He never stopped working, rebuilding my heart,
He toiled throughout many years.
He so often showed grace, loved me through my disgrace,
and in time, He banished my fears.
An artist of power and an artist of Truth,
He carefully re-sculpted my heart.
With much concentration and much designation,
the beauty shone through from the start.
When His work was complete, He welcomed me back
and led my soul to His humble workbench.
With the pride of a Father in love with His daughter,
He held tight to my hands as they clenched.
He pulled back the canvas that shielded His art
and revealed to me His masterpiece.
I was blinded by beauty, in awe of it truly,
and humbly, I fell to His feet.
You see His light that shined, through my restructured heart,
shone with glory and refracted abound.
It danced to the ceiling, sparkled with feeling,
and touched all that rested around.
Before my adversity, before all the trials,
I was a pane of unweathered glass.
His light could shine through me, but though there was beauty,
it had no opportunity to refract.
In breaking me down and building me up,
He had very clever intent.
For now when His light shone with delight,
it was scattered, refracted, and bent.
It could reach every corner and touch every heart
that came within its new bounds.
I could now shine His light, with power and might,
to all who yearned to be found.
I was humbled in thought that He cared for my heart
with such personal, attentive grace.
It was then that I learned, it was simply my turn,
and that others filled infinite space.
You see He works on us all, every single heart,
for we are all His children anew.
He loves us so deeply, and spends time with us neatly,
rebuilding even YOU.
I fancy our hearts as mosaics,
mosaics constructed by God.
Intricately made, passionately displayed
Beautifully humble, yet odd.
