On the Anvil

[freerangeloon]

The Blacksmith's Shop

In the shop of a blacksmith, there are three types of
tools. There are tools on the junkpile:
outdated,
broken,
dull,
rusty.
They sit in the cobwebbed corner, useless to their
master, oblivious to their calling.

There are tools on the anvil;
melted down,
molten hot,
moldable,
changeable.
They lie on the anvil, being shaped by their master,
accepting their calling.

There are tools of usefulness:
sharpened,
primed,
defined,
mobile.
They lie ready in the blacksmith's tool chest,
available to their master, fufilling
their calling.

Some people lie useless:
lives broken,
talents wasting,
fires quenched,
dreams dashed,
They are tossed in with the scrap iron, indesperate
need of repair with no notion of
purpose.

Others lie on the anvil;
hearts open,
hungry to change,
wounds healing,
visions clearing.
They welcome the painful pounding of the
blacksmith's hammer, longing to be
rebuilt, begging to be called.

Others lie in their Master's hands:
well tuned,
uncompromising,
polished,
productive.
They respond to their Master's forearm, demanding
nothing, surrendering all.

We are all somewhere in the blacksmith's shop. We are either on the scrap
pile, in the Master's hands on the anvil, or in the tool chest. (Some of us
have been in all three.)
Discover whatPaul meant when he spoke of becoming "an instrument for noble
purposes". And what a becoming it is! The rubbish pile of broken tools,
the anvil of recasting, the hands of the Master--it's a simultaneously
joyful and painful voyage.
And for you who make the journey--who leave the heap and enter the fire,
dare to be pounded on God's anvil, and doggedly seek to discover your own
purpose--take courage, for you await the privilege of being called "God's
chosen instruments".

(author Max Lucado)