The Potter’s hand

On my last deployment, my cousin sent me the following poem, which I pinned to the wall above my desk and read every morning for the rest of that year.

 

As I was packing up and getting ready to leave on this deployment, I found it in a pile of papers and salvaged it to once again adorn my workspace.  Here it is for your benefit:

 

Whom God Chooses

by Henry F. Lyte

When God wants to drill a man,
and thrill a man, and skill a man,
When God wants to mold a man,
To play the noblest part;
When He yearns with all His heart
To create so great and bold a man,
That all the world shall be amazed,
Watch his methods; watch His ways.
How He ruthlessly perfects
When He royally elects!
How He hammers him and hurts him
And with mighty blows converts him
Into trial shapes of clay
Which only God understands;
While his tortured heart is crying,
And He lifts beseeching hands!
How He bends but never breaks
When His good He undertakes.
How He uses whom he chooses,
And with every purpose fuses him;
But every act induces him
To try His splendor out –
God knows what He’s about!

Go then, earthly fame and treasure!
Come disaster, scorn, and pain!
In Thy service, pain is pleasure;
With Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee, Abba, Father;
I have stayed my heart on Thee.
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather;
All must work for good to me.

 

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