Nails

The pain is growing stronger.

Once, the nails pierced only a small part of my life—just a scratch and quickly healed.

I gladly offered my finger to be pricked—to give a little, but not too much.

But that’s no longer enough.

I’ve had to give my hands to be reshaped and molded for service to others,

My legs are being exercised and strengthened to walk the extra miles.

My eyes are being transformed to see only the good and the pure.

My tongue is being disciplined for the edification of others—the put-downs are being removed one by one.

And my ears are being fine-tuned to the voice of Him who has called me to be His perfect and holy bride.

What was once minor surgery has become a major operation, and the nails are pounded deeper

into the very heart of me.

As the last of myself is poured out, leaving me alone and empty, the tears come, and I close my eyes.

For the voice that has taught me to trust is whispering something about

a resurrection

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