Unformed substance 

The sharp blade of the knife pierces the flesh of my heart. I am brought to my knees. I feel my last breath escaping. Light dims into nothing it seems. I trusted this man. I gave him myself. And what has he done! I can’t deny my doubt: did I make the right decision? I am going numb now. I can’t help but whimper a scream, “What are you doing?” He replies, “I’m making room for me.” “I have shown you myself. I have revealed what lies within you. You have cried out to me to become new. This is what it takes. You can’t do it yourself. I have to remove the you in you.” I must pass away that he may live within. Less of me and more of Him. As a potter destroys the cubed image of the clay to make it pleasing in his sight, I am destroyed before my King that I might be more as his Delight.

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