Mold Me, Lord

I've done great things, and I've done wrong,

Thought I was healed, standing strong.

But the unhealed me still found its way,

Appearing in moments I thought I’d outgrown, each day.

It wasn’t by chance—it’s Your design,

A greater purpose, a plan divine.

You let me stumble, face the cost,

Yet through it all, Your love was never lost.

You hurt when I hurt, cried when I fell,

But knew my journey would one day tell.

Each tear, each scar, held wisdom and light,

To heal others walking in darkness and night.

For though I’ve longed for a love so true,

You’ve shaped my heart for more than I knew.

To lift up those who feel unseen,

To show them Your love, so pure, so keen.

My story holds struggle, pain, and tears,

But growth, triumph, and love persevere.

Here I stand, Lord, with arms raised high,

Mold me into the woman who touches the sky.

Let my testimony blaze like a star,

A beacon of hope for those near and far.

May others find peace in Your healing embrace,

For they are worthy, in Your endless grace.