Weathered pavement is what scarred my face
After being on the ground for so long
Raging rebuke from the authority idol inside tripping up my impostor shell
Spilling clay and causing others to walk away empty-handed
Recognition of self-serving deeds hidden and acknowledgment of self-righteous words spoken
Ground me like a millstone tied around my neck
Savoring His Grace in my arms, His spirit inspires me
His voice splits the clouds and sparks precipitation
Chlorophyll green leaves flourish through the cracks
From the clay that spilled out of my shattered jar
Broken on The Rock? It’s a good feeling!