Via Dei

The shaping comes with fire, with wounds unseen,
A slow unmaking of what might have been.
The heart is carved, the soul must break and bend,
Through silent trials only He can send.

Each scar is deep, each tear a trace of grace,
That draws us closer to His hidden face.
For in the hollow ache, the lonely night,
He molds us gently in the quiet light.

There will be pain, more than the tongue can tell,
But through it all, He whispers, “It is well.”
For though the path is long, the burden cold,
In the end, His promises will hold.