The Graceful Blade

I hang alone; a vine withering, dying without You
As the Gardener You came and took a blade to my veins
With each cut You trimmed the pieces away
So the unnecessary could fade; and only grace remained
Until holy I stood, in the likeness of You
And the desires of my heart would alter, change,
Grow until they reflected only You

Wholly new with each cut You drew
The bad away, and pulled the rest to You
Until no longer I could deny
My exclusive need for the Grace you bestow

Finally I see that I am fully in need:
I am in need of the mercy You show
In need of the strength You bestow
In need of a peace to surround my heart
Dear God, it is Your highest art
To display the love which I crave, to those You create

Captivating and connecting my heart
Like a Sculptor and His art,
You cut away and recreate—
Molding and crafting unyielding clay
Until other’s at the end of my days will say,
That heart looked like Your heart

O Lord, as You cut and construct righteousness
From something that only lacks; I as a vine in Your garden
I will always behold the glory in Your art
I as the vine, and You as the King of Grace
You perfected and cared, tending to me like a newly grown tree
With it’s roots held steadily in You, a vine stemming from Your truth
The fruit of Your labor, You are cutting, perfecting
Your glory born in me

This is my prayer, O Lord, my psalm
I sing to the God of my life: freely trim from my heart
What need not stay,
Until I am but a breath in rhythm with the words You say—
Growing and raising to the sky in praise
Cutting and making me whole with each cut You trace:
Fully a new creation beginning to bloom
So finally I see and freely believe,
My exclusive need for
The Gardener that is Grace