The word which came to Jeremiah from theLORD, saying, Arise, and go down to thepotters house, and there I will cause thee tohear my words. Then I went down to thepotters house, and, behold, he wrought awork on the wheels. And the vessel that hemade of clay was marred in the hand of thepotter: so he made it again another vessel, asseemed good to the potter to make it. Thenthe word of the LORD came to me, saying, Ohouse of Israel, cannot I do with you as thispotter? saith the LORD. Behold, as the clay is inthe potters hand, so are ye in mine hand, Ohouse of Israel.
Should we now accept thechallenge of offering our lives tohelp? (clip – dagang guwang)
In the shop of a blacksmith, there are three types of tools: There are tools on the junk pile There are toolsThe on the anvilBlacksmith There are toolsShop of usefulness
There are tools on the junk pileOutdatedBrokenDullRusty
There are tools on the anvil Melted down Molten hot Moldable Changeable
There are tools of usefulness Sharpened Primed Defined Mobile
Some people lie useless Lives broken Talents wasting Fires quenched Dreams dashed
Others lie on the anvil Hearts open Hungry to change Wounds of healing Visions clearing
Others lie on the Master’s hand Well tuned Uncompromising Polished Productive
The pile of broken tools To find me, look over in the corner of the shop, over here, behind the cobwebs, beneath the dust, in the darkness There are scores of us, broken handles, dulled blades, cracked iron. Some of us were useful ones, and then… many of us never were. But, listen, don’t feel sorry forme. Life isnt so bad here in the pile… no work, no anvils, no pain, no sharpening, And yes, the days are very long
Footprints of SatanI was in the emergency room late one night. Victims of satan filled the halls. A child – puffy, swollen eyes. Beaten by her father. A woman – bruised cheeks, bloody nose. “My boyfriend got drunk and hit me,” she said, weeping. An old man – unconscious and drunk on a stretcher. He drooled blood in his sleep.