I’d rather be vulnerable, raw, broken-down,
I’d rather be bent with my face to the ground,
Swallowing pain with the salt of my tears,
And watch as my precious-held pride disappears.
I’d rather be shattered, and battered upon
I’d rather be fractured, and learn to hold on
To the hand of the One who gives every good thing
I’d rather be dashed at the feet of my King.
I’d rather I crumble, be bruised all within,
And learn to be humble, to cling close to Him
I’d rather accept that I’m precious, but flawed,
And learn to survive on the breath of my God.

– s. Clark