Our usefulness and destiny
Depend not on our birth,
And beauty is no guarantee
Of what a life is worth.
The genius, or the master mind,
Speak not of moral weight.
Too often those of brilliance find
They've learned it far too late.
It isn't chance or incident
That tells us who we are.
One failure does not represent
Our aptitude and par.
It's rather in the daily choice
That we can see our make,
Our habits tell with candid voice
If we're a fraud or fake.
But even habits can be changed
And molded by our Lord.
Our filthiness can be exchanged—
His heart in us restored.
It's work that only He can do—
To carve in us His face.
Each blow is shaping us anew,
Each stroke another grace.
He will not strike us needlessly,
He knows our feeble frame,
And how to make us fully free
Of sin and all its shame.
So no it isn't prettiness
That makes a girl like gold,
Nor is in strength the manliness
That makes his worth untold.
But in yielding up the will,
Despite the cost and pain,
Is found the one essential skill
For true success and gain.
