Cindy Powell

In Your hands
You hold
A thousand broken pieces
Pieces of me
All the pieces of my life
Individually, they don’t make sense
They don’t fit together
But held in Your presence
Over time
Beauty is revealed
As You take each broken piece
And begin to fashion something new
A picture begins to emerge
What was broken, restored
What seemed pointless, reimagined
And in the hands of the Master
A beautiful mosaic is revealed
Every broken piece fits perfectly
Every color
Every jagged edge
Every shard, no matter the size
An integral part of Your redemptive design
Every moment of my life
Smooth or rough
Broken or whole
Even the moments I deemed utterly useless
Or those completely crushed and shattered beyond recognition
Are represented fully
And fully beautiful—
In the mosaic of my life