Scattered on hardened hearts, even my heart of stone;
Your Word prevails for a moment, then is snatched, choked, and withered.
Create in me a new heart, Lord;
A heart with depth of earth, fertile, and watered.
The fruit that remains is fragile; I know you will preserve it.
For your name’s sake, prune away all unrighteousness.
Remember your promise. Your words are true.
You do not despise the affliction; I rejoice in the fruits it yields.
The harvest is lacking and in need of tending.
Who can abide in the things of the Lord?
Who can hear, accept, grow, and keep? Not one; Not without mercy.
You will accomplish this; Wrenched hearts kneel at the throne of grace.
No stone unturned, no withered branch in-tact;
All who are called seek, find, and rejoice in the Lord,
Thriving safely in your vineyard of fragile fruits;
Birthed from sensitive seeds; made for hearts of flesh, not stone.