Hammering

God has been chip, chip, chipping away at me lately--at my pride, mostly. It's good. It's necessary. It's actually something that I have asked Him to do.

But it is still oh. so. painful.

Have you ever read Max Lucado's book On the Anvil? It's a series of short stories that compare us all to materials in a blacksmith's shop. The first section is full of stories of those who are on the scrap pile--cold, lifeless, lonely, not useful. I'm glad I'm not there. The last section is victorious--those who have been pounded and shaped by God and are actively being used by Him. I have had moments there, and it is amazing.

But today I'm in the middle. On the anvil. Being shaped, lovingly handcrafted into a useful tool for the Lord. It's good. But the heat is uncomfortable... the molding feels unnatural at times... and the pounding of His hammer really hurts.

I am reminded of labor pains, of my midwife reminding me, "Don't fight the contractions. Relax through them. They hurt, but they are doing an important work. Let them do their work."

Don't fight the pain of the anvil. It's doing important work. Take a deep breath, and let it shape you.