A piece of my heart is wounded,  trampled on by life.  On wings of Love it once did soar,  now grounded beneath the weight of the world. A strong wall I’ve built around this piece;  instinctively I protect it.  Yet a dark, lonely corner is where it sits,  as I try each day to forget it. But now I sense Your presence,  and I hear You call my name.  You stand before me, arm outstretched.  Within Your eyes an unspoken request. My whole heart is what You’re after;  I’ve known this all along.  But the pieces I show the world won’t do;  You want the hidden pieces, too. Your posture is unhurried;  with patience You’ll wait for my yes .  You hope only to draw me closer,  an invitation within Your request. They say You never ask for anything  while extending an empty hand.  Yet still, I fear the emptiness  of giving You all I have. This wounded piece—I do not want it.  But how do I give it away?  I can not do it on my own so I'll continue to pray.... Help me pick up the piece I’d rather for