Glory in the Dust

He does not choose the polished stone
That gleams beneath the sun;
He lifts the jagged, weathered rock
And carves till grace is done.

He walks where reputation fades,
Where nets lie torn in sand;
He calls the calloused, trembling ones
And writes their names by hand.

The crown He gives is not for those
Who stand without a scar,
But for the hearts still limping home
From battles fought afar.

He speaks to Gideon in fear,
To David in the field;
To broken jars, He whispers truth—
“My glory will not yield.”

For Heaven’s work begins unseen,
In hidden, holy ground;
Where dust receives the breath of God,
And mercy makes the sound.

So bring the cracks, the weary soul,
The prayers that seem so small;
For He delights to shape the weak
Till in His strength they stand tall.

If this poem stirred something in your heart, remember that the deepest roots grow from God’s Word itself. “Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee” (Psalm 119:11). If you’d like simple, practical help in tucking Scripture into memory…

👉 Sign up for the free FAST Crash Course in Bible Memorization: http://fast.st/cc/21419