Lately, I’ve been drawn to the broken shells at the ocean’s edge. Even in brokenness, there is beauty.
“What Shall I Render?”
By Melanie Dorsey
What shall I render to You?
Like the mountains I melt in Your presence.
My inner parts laid bare.
Like the mountains I melt in Your presence.
My inner parts laid bare.
What shall I render to You?
My roots are firmly planted.
Your pruning pains, yet a promise of fruit.
What shall I render to You?
In a desert, still there are hidden springs.
No mirage; It is You.
What shall I render to You?
Broken and fragmented.
In silence, lips move, “Beautiful.”
