driftwood

if the darkest moment comes before 
the dawn,
if the storm always precedes
the calm,
if confusion has to surrender
to peace,
if striving always gives way
to ease --
if Your way has to conquer 
my will,
if I must be thirsty before I drink
my fill,
will You darken my heart?
bring a storm to tear me apart?
confuse me, stir up my thoughts,
then empty me of my empty drought?
and slowly, from the broken pieces
of who I was, create Your peace
of glory in me, from these pieces 
of driftwood.