maybe the limbs of a broken tree will heal themselves in time
|
or maybe the limbs from that broken tree will petrify......
|
hard as stone.
|
as I peel back the layers I find things I never knew were there
|
and as I listen to my prayers I hear myself confused and scared.
|
this broken tree feels like it's part of me somehow controlling
|
my destiny.
|
has the seed of a broken promise decided what I will be?
|
and I, left to myself can only hope to survive.
|
and I, left to myself can only slowly die.
|
|
how long will I drift? would I not know the difference?
|
have I weathered so long that I've been shaped by this ocean?
|
will the legacy live on in me? like father, like son?
|
I don't believe that what I am is determined by what
|
precedes me.
|
and now I have to realize that the past is not my future
|
and in Christ I'm a brand new creature.
|
|
and I, left to myself can only hope to survive.
|
and I, left to myself can only slowly die.
|
but given grace I know I can,
|
given grace I can learn to forgive.
|
in the face of all of this.
|
given grace I can truly live.
|
|
-----------------
|
Broken Tree
|
Six Feet Deep |