Life is unfair. Bad things happen to good people. Sometimes the nice gals finish last. It’s not a great message but it happens to be the truth…and I’m all about truth. Here’s another truth: Life doesn’t get to dictate how you act and react to the garbage it gives you. Because you were abused, it doesn’t give you permission to abuse others. Because you were lied to, does not mean it’s perfectly acceptable to become a liar. Because life has used you up and spit you out, it doesn’t mean you have to be or feel like a discarded useless blob (even though there are days when you feel exactly like that!) Here’s the crux of the matter and the real truth….God doesn’t really care what has happened to you. He doesn’t care how someone else has treated or mistreated you. He doesn’t care what terrible pain and trial has been forced on you. He, and only He, will deal with the perpetrators of the deeds against you. What God cares about is HOW YOU HANDLE all that garbage. Are you reacting to abuse with kindness? Are you countering lies with truth? Are you resilient and humble when circumstances threaten to break you? You may think that you are too beaten or battered, used up or damaged, hurt and betrayed to ever find joy or be brave. You may wonder how happiness can ever be part of this broken life you are living? The answer is this….you and I and all of us are God’s children. We have great worth. We are valued beyond measure in His eyes. When we allow God to touch us, and guide us, and LOVE us, then He will comfort us and HEAL us! He is the Master and in his hands we are infinitely beautiful, and can have and bring endless joy to our lives and those around us. I believe.
The Touch of The Master’s Hand
‘Twas battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bid, good people”, he cried,
“Who starts the bidding for me?”
“One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?”
“Two dollars, who makes it three?”
“Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,”
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said “What now am I bid for this old violin?”
As he held it aloft with its’ bow.
“One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?”
“Two thousand, Who makes it three?”
“Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone”, said he.
The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
“We just don’t understand.”
“What changed its’ worth?”
Swift came the reply.
“The Touch of the Masters Hand.”
“And many a man with life out of tune
All battered and bruised with hardship
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.
But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters’ Hand.
– by Myra Brooks Welch