In one of my first posts I exposed one of my sins. If you recall I shared how it entangled me and held me back from being able to fully glorify God. Well, it’s back, (I’m not actually sure if it was removed in the first place). Here’s the second story:
I’m better, I deserve that . . . Can’t people recognize my talents . . . Praise me . . .
PRIDE. ME. I. WANT. I. DESERVE. GLORY. PRAISE. ME. ME. ME. NOT. THEM. ME. I. MYSELF. I. HATE. WHAT. ABOUT. ME!!!!!!!!!!
And when it doesn’t happen I flame, I explode, my heart turns to stone. And then, HATE. Hatred to the person who strips me of glory, of praise. God has also chosen the person who is in the spotlight, what right have I to say to Him, “that’s not right, your doing it wrong”? I should be blessed that the brethren are using their gifts to bring glory to God. I’m not even doing that!
BUT THATS NOT THE WORST OF IT . . .
I use God, I use prayer, against them.
“God, why can’t I get that. I don’t understand, this isn’t the way it is supposed to go. I am supposed to be there instead of them. God please, put me there instead. Don’t you love me. Didn’t you give me these talents. Now, let me use the gift you gave me. Take them down, let me share what I have. They always get the spot light. It’s my turn now . . . ”
I love the LORD, how he scoffs and laughs at our stupidity. How he chuckles at our cluelessness.
“Oh my silly daughter,” His laughing confuses me and makes me frustrated. “You are nothing, but I made you something. I crafted you into the precious girl you are. I hand picked those gifts of yours, for my glory, for my honor, for my praise, not yours.”
And just like that my eyes are opened.
“Oh . . . I see.”
I laugh. How could I be so stupid? How could I be so clueless?
MY GIFTS WERE GIVEN TO GLORIFY NOT MYSELF . . . BUT THE ONE WHO GAVE THEM.
I glance at my fiddle. It’s stupid really. Just a couple pieces of wood . . . wood, the planks we use to keep warm. Sure its pretty, but the practical thing to do with it is to throw it in the hearth and watch it as the embers burn the pegs and naw at the bow. The box with strings, it’s useless.
A box with strings . . . it’s silly really
But then, when the power of flesh and feelings, when a heart and soul takes charge of this plank of wood, its purpose changes. All of the sudden the wood is music, and the embers food becomes praise, glorious and full of splendor.
IT’S THE SAME WITH US.
We are hearts of stone prepared for a burning eternity. We are useless bricks, pebbles in an ocean of nothingness, hardened souls.
A heart of stone chipped off a useless brick. But, it becomes beauty when God touches it . . .
But then, when the power of God takes charge, our purpose changes, we are strung for His glory. We are lifted to a state of holiness , made perfect in the image of his son. And all of a sudden the heart of stone becomes music, and the embers food becomes praise, glorious and full of splendor.
IF I CAN REMEMBER WHAT GOD HAS DONE FOR ME, THERE IS NO ROOM FOR PRIDE. THE “ME” IS REPLACED BY THANKFULNESS AND LONGING TO BE USED TO GLORIFY MY SAVIOR. HE WHO SAVED ME FROM A BURNING ETERNITY.
You turn things upside down, as if the potter were thought to be like the clay! Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, “You did not make me”? Can the pot say to the potter, “You know nothing”?
“Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?’ Does your work say, ‘The potter has no hands’?
But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some for common use?
Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.
In Christ Alone ~EleyanaFaith
He forms us into what he sees fit . . .