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.
