Dust and Ashes
Take me, my Father, for I'm nothing but dust and ashes. Burned by the furnace of suffering, blackened by my sin. There's nothing worthy about me, my life's only a shadow, It fades away like the mist. I'm like a speck of dust in the air, That the wind blows over and quickly vanishes. Use me, my Father, I'm weary of depending on myself. Refine me in the fire of Your kiln. Fashion me into Your treasured possession. Only you see my cracks, scratches and chipped edges. Would you take the shards of my life, My hurting soul, wounded heart and shattered dreams? Would you mould me into what You've purposed for me? And teach me to walk in step with You? Turn to me, my Father, for I'm poor and needy. There's still much more which I lack. Give me a heart which loves others unselfishly, Eyes to see my sinful state without You, A tongue to honour Your name, Hands which exist wholly to serve You, And feet which run continually towards Your paths of truth. Thank you, my...