I Am Still Becoming
I am not who I was,
but not yet who I will be.
I am clay that breathes,
still soft in His hands.
Moulded, patted, pressed—
a dance,
not forced,
but gently guided.
Shaping my steps forward,
sweeping the ones left behind,
holding me upright
in the moment that is now.
I am not who I was,
but not yet who I will be.
I am still becoming—
everything You see me as,
and everything I want to be.
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