The mirror shows a face unknown,
A heart weighed down by sins of stone.
But even broken, lost, and torn, In His image, I was born.
Psalm 139 whispers in my ear:
"I am fearfully and wonderfully made" - so clear.
Yet doubt clouds the truth divine, Forgetting my worth in the Grand Design.
From the dust, He breathed my name,
Through the cross, He bore my shame.
I'll rise anew, His love my guide,
A child of Heaven, no need to hide.
Isaiah 43 declares my name,
Redeemed through fire, released from shame.
His hands hold my every flaw,
In His sight, I am more than law.
Why do I tear what He has healed?
Why hate the soul He's revealed?
The Potter's clay, molded with care,
In His love, I learn to repair.
From the dust, He breathed my name,
Through the cross, He bore my shame.
I'll rise anew, His love my guide,
A child of Heaven, no need to hide.
Isaiah 43 declares my name,
Redeemed through fire, released from shame.
His hands hold my every flaw,
In His sight, I am more than law.
Why do I tear what He has healed?
Why hate the soul He's revealed?
The Potter's clay, molded with care,
In His love, I learn to repair.
From the dust, He breathed my name,
Through the cross, He bore my shame.
I'll rise anew, His love my guide,
A child of Heaven, no need to hide.
