A grievance nursed is a wound unhealed.
God, melt to slag our hearts of steel.
Strain and smelt and blow and hammer
fuse and grind away.
All that offends, all that won't bend
humble us or we dismay.
Let the pained and wounded soul
cool into a holy mold.
A sword of hope that You hold high
a testament to darkened eyes.
Shape us then to Your good cause
and make me fuel flame of God!
