Even if my back is set in a deformed slump, my shoulders taking on a slouch, I know that He sets the crooked straight, I know that He alone can reform my jagged skeletal frame. He doesn't ask me to lift my chin a little higher and walk with a metered gait before I enter His courts. He bids me leave the forest of my hiding, for it is the sick who need a doctor, not the healthy. He will set my bones into place, He will dress me with royal attire.