The Chosen Vessel
The Master was searching for a vessel to use.
On the shelf there were many.
Which would He choose?
"Take me," cried the gold one. "I'm shiny and bright.
I'm of great value and I do things just right.
My beauty and lustre will outshine the rest,
And for someone like You, Master,
gold would be the best!"
The Master passed on with no word at all.
He looked at a silver urn, narrow and tall.
"I'll serve You, dear master,
I'll pour out Your wine.
And, I'll be at Your table whenever you dine.
My lines are so graceful,
my carvings so true,
And, my silver will always compliment you!"
Unheeding, the Master passed on to the brass.
It was wide mouthed and shallow,
and polished like glass.
"Here! Here!" cried the vessel.
"I know I will do.
Place me on Your table for all men to view."
Look at me" called the goblet of crystal so clear.
"My transparency shows my contents so dear.
Though fragile am I, I will serve You with pride.
And, I'm sure I'll be happy
in your house to abide."
The Master came next to a vessel of wood.
Polished and carved, it solidly stood.
"You may use me, dear Master"
the wooden bowl said.
"But I'd rather You used me for fruit.
Not for bread!"
Then the Master looked down and saw
a vessel of clay.
Empty and broken it helplessly lay.
No hope had the vessel
that the Master might choose,
To cleanse and make whole,
To fill and to use.
"Ah! This is the vessel
I've been hoping to find.
I will mend and use it
and make it all Mine.
I need not the vessel with pride of its self;
Nor the one who is narrow--to sit on the shelf;
Nor the one who is big mouthed
and shallow and loud;
Nor the one who displays his contents so proud;
Not the one who thinks he can do
all things just right;
But this plain, earthy vessel
Filled with My power and might."
Then, gently, He lifted the vessel of clay.
Mended and cleansed it, and filled it that day.
He spoke to it kindly.
"There's work you must do....
Just pour out to others, as I pour into you!"
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