The soil is broken open to take in
The precious seed that will produce the wheat
By breaking the tougth seed corn's shell and skin.
Nothing happens till the grapes are crushed,
And beat relentlessly within the pit,
Or in high vats are tossed around and smashed,
To yield good wine for mankind's benefit.
Naught happens till the olive fruit is pressed,
To yield the wholesome and nutricious oil.
To gratify and pleasure host and guest,
Yet only after ardent human toil.
Cracked open are the shafts of bluff and mine,
To bring forth precious metals, ores or salt,
Compelled to yield their substance crystalline.
In harsh procedures, tiresome and bold.
Oyster shells are broken open wide.
To give the gleaming pearl up within,
To make the jewellery collector's pride,
Or grace the neck of princess or of queen.
And broken is the fierce rebellious steed
'Ere it is fit to serve the charioteer,
T'is broken Lo!- regardless of its breed
To make it for the rider fit to steer.
And broken was the jar of alabaster,
Its perfume, nard and fragrance to release,
To consecrate before His death the Master,
The king-priest, savior, the prince of peace.
Thank thus the Lord for breaking what does need
A breaking for is His purposeful design,
Though there be tears and human hearts may bleed,
And thus be part of His great scheme divine.
Brokenness alone brings you were HE
Desires you for growth and strength to be,
Lo!- in the depth and dark of brokenness,
Stripped of all pride and self-sufficiency.
He can now use you as His instrument to bless.