BOOK

[verseode]

               

         Don't judge a book by it's cover
         The pages are all worn
         Many years of constant toil
         Have left them thin and torn
         It gives a good appearance
         Belying what's inside
         Perhaps you call it death to self
         As God dissolves our pride.

         He carefully takes the cover off
         The pages fall to bits
         We're dependent on the One
         Who on our throne now sits
         Slowly He rebuilds our lives
         He puts things into place
         Not as quickly as we'd like
         But at His perfect pace.