Correction is a blessing when the hands are clean When the wound is seen and the motive’s healing But harsh words spoken with no road back home Would crush a bruised reed and still call it holy They said it was love, but it carried no care Spoke justice out loud but left me nowhere Isaiah warned us what God won't do He won't break what's bent just to prove what’s true If there's no path to restoration If there's no honor, no patience, no invitation Then don't call it correction Call it what it is A bruised reed He will not break A fading wick He will not shame If your words don’t carry healing, they don't carry His name Correction without restoration isn't justice, it’s control I don’t owe you my unraveling God is the keeper of my soul God is the keeper of my soul Those who press correction but won’t walk the road To help you rebuild what they just exposed They don't get a vote in how you heal Or how you process what God made real I don't have to bleed on your timeline Or explain the way the Lord realigned You lost the right when you tore the cloak God placed on me just to guard your throne Correction calls compassion, truth is used as a weapon And heaven isn’t backing what you're defending A bruised reed He will not break A fading flame He will protect He restores before He sends He covers what He corrects So I release what I don't need The weight of proving and explaining and defending me What God restored, no man can claim He brings forth justice and He heals what He names Faithful He brings forth justice Faithful