God tore down these fortress walls;
My dirty hands rebuild them.
He commands, He warns, He whispers, He calls;
My willful heart ignores Him.
I pour the foundation and bury my Lord;
I raise the gates and nail Him high.
The bricks are whetstones to sharpen the sword
That pierce His heart and mine.
He destroyed what once held me.
I build it back in zealous lust,
Too proud to kneel, too blind to see
The mortar is made of blood and dust.
Dear Lord, I wish to let my hammer drop,
To let the fortress lie,
To let green grass cover the barren spot
And rivers fill the streets so dry.
Thank you for sharing this.
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