God never stops seeking our conversion as long as we are alive, no matter how often we reject Him. And if we wish to have our stubborn wills broken, He will break them. In that spirit, I present this poem:
Break Me, Lord!
Break me, Lord! My soul still flees Thee:
Still it burns yet spurns to see Thee.
Track me ‘cross ten thousand miles
Stalk me to the tropic isles.
Run my soul down until it stops
Pursue it ‘til at last it drops
Too faint to run, too tired to flee
At last at rest fore’er in Thee.
So close to You, yet so far still!
Shatter me! Smash my stony will!
I cower from You, still You come,
Catch me quick so I succumb!
Go after me with all your speed
Your chasing, Lord, I sorely need.
Although I scorn You and displease
Always pursue me! Never cease!
Hunt me through fire, briar, and storm,
Hunt me through ice, rain, chill, lukewarm,
Let loose Your hounds of heaven swift
To catch this fool who spurns your gift.
And when I’m caught, spur me to chase
Others who run the same fool’s race.
Break me, burn me, beat me down
Till I receive Your heavenly crown!