With a strong forearm, the apron-clad blacksmith puts his tongs into the fire, grasps the heated metal, and places it on the anvil. His keen eye examines the glowing piece. He sees what the tool is now and envisions what he wants it to be--sharper, flatter, wider, longer. With a clear picture in his mind, he begins to pound. His left hand still clutching the hot mass with the tongs, his right hand slams the two-pound sledge upon the moldable metal.
On the solid anvil, the smoldering iron is remolded.
The smith knows the type of instrument he wants. He knows the size. He knows the shape. He knows the strength.
Whang! Whang! The hammer slams. The shop rings with the noise, the air fills with smoke, and the softened metal responds.
But the response doesn't come easily. It doesn't come without discomfort. To melt down the old and recast it as new is a disrupting process. Yet the metal remains on the anvil, allowing the toolmaker to remove the scars, repair the cracks, refill the voids, and purge the impurities.
And with time, a change occurs: What was dull becomes sharpened, what was crooked becomes straight, what was weak becomes strong, and what was useless becomes valuable.
Then the blacksmith stops. He ceases his pounding and sets down his hammer. With a strong left arm, he lifts the tongs until the freshly molded metal is at eye level. In the still silence, he examines the smoking tool. The incandescent implement is rotated and examined for any mars or cracks.
There are none.
Now the smith enters the final stage of his task. He plunges the smoldering instrument into a nearby bucket of water. With a hiss and a rush of steam, the metal immediately begins to harden. The heat surrenders to the onslaught of cool water, and the pliable, soft mineral becomes an unbending useful tool.
"For a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith--of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire--may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
(I Peter 1:6-7)
From On the Anvil: Max Lucado
Stories On Being Shaped Into God's Image
The image of being on an anvil was never far from my mind this month. I had in my head what the month where I was going to focus on my relationship with the Lord was going to look like. It was a peaceful calm path...this month has been anything but.
In this month I have struggled more than I think I have ever struggled in my life! I have dealt with fear, anxiety, despair and the feeling of being completely overwhelmed and wondering where I was going to get the strength to take the next step.
God has showed Himself faithful. The strength was always there for that next step. He was always there with me. I am reminded of the "Footprints in the Sand" poem, and I know He did alot of carrying this month.
Psalm 23 became real to me, "yea tho I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me." When I saw my daughter lying sedated and intubated, I have to admit my faith was small. I couldn't even put words to the prayers I was sending up to God. But during my helicopter ride I felt a peace that I have never felt before, yes I was still scared, yes I was anxious and wanting answers, but over all I knew that God was in control, that we were being held in the palm of His hand. I knew that even though I couldn't put words to my prayers there were hundreds of other people who were lifting us up in prayer. I knew that none of this surprised God. Those were the things I had to hold on to.
I have started a Beth Moore Bible study this month, and today's study was talking about the victory we have in the spirit. The victory is there! I don't need to worry about being defeated!
So this month was hard and terrifying, but hopeful it has made me a sharper tool to be used for God's glory!
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