She stumbles along her broken road,
tainted treasures in hand,
toting her hopes in a heavy load,
struggling just to stand.
She loses her footing-trips over a trial,
and, clumsy, stumbles down.
In less than a moment, all her dreams
are shattered across the ground.
She gathers pieces frantically,
“Father, why would you do this to me?
Fix them, Lord, oh, won’t you please,
restore to me my broken dreams?”
She hears His whisper on the wind,
the answer makes her falter.
“Not this time, beloved one.
I want you to build an altar.”
With trembling hands, she gathers her hopes,
and stacks them on top of a hill.
“I thought my dreams were something great,
but Yours are greater still.
Father, I desire naught,
but just to do Your will.”
Fire falls from heaven and consumes her sacrifice,
ash and tears and broken pieces burn before her eyes.
He gently speaks, “Your offering is good and will suffice.
Your shattered dreams and broken heart, I will not despise.”
She kneels in ashes on blackened ground,
stunned speechless in happy surprise.
Where her dreams once were, there sits a crown.
Where ashes were, beauty lies.
“Pick it up and start anew.
Begin with the plans I have for you.”
