I was a rock,
Tough and cold and mean,
then one day I was carried off,
By a man I didn't see,
He threw me down a mountain,
I yelled and cried and screamed,
I bounced and cracked and chipped away,
and shattered all my dreams,
He put me in a river,
it crashed and wore me down,
sanding down my edges,
of which I was so proud,
Still the torment lingered,
I fought it all the way,
I thought the Man must hate me,
To have hurt me all these days,
Then suddenly, I saw the Man,
I saw his smiling face,
I saw that I was in His hands,
I understood His grace,
He had saved me from the rocky pits,
where I would have stayed the same,
As ugly as the day He came,
without a hope of change,
He polished all my edges,
He made my surface shine,
Broke away my weaker parts,
made strength and smoothness mine,
and now at last I understand,
why He chose me on that day,
for what He did was not in hate,
but love, and needed change,
He saw in me what I did not,
beneath the rough and cold,
and helped me change, 'til it shown through,
Now I am a polished stone
