The Touch Of The Master's Hand

Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar, then, two! Only two?
Two dollars, and who'll make it three?
Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three . . ."
But no,
From the room, far back, a grey-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low, said:
"What am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
"Two thousand! And who'll make it three?
"Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice;
And going and gone."said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand, what changed its worth?"
Swift came the reply:
"The Touch Of The Master's Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A 'mess of potage,' a glass of wine;
A game - and he travels on.
He is 'going' once, and 'going' twice,
He's 'going' and almost 'gone'.
But the Master comes and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the Master's Hand.

by Myra B. Welch (1877-1959)

My Gran read this poem at Church last night and I thought it was worth sharing. If I am completely honest I would have to say it is not particularly my style of poem. There are many others I think sound much better, such as Footprints I shared a little while back. However even though it is not one of my favourite poems I do think it has a message to share. I think that the point of the poem is a very important one that we should not forget. On our own we are worthless wrecks, there is nothing about us that gives us any worth. But when the master has access to us and is allowed to work in our lives then wondrous things can happen. I do think that this poem gets one thing wrong however, the change in value and fortunes God makes in our lives through the death of Jesus is not thousands of times bigger. The change in the worth of our lives is innumerable, unfathomable. When you allow God in to your life wondrous things will happen, it won't always be easy, many times you will want to turn back. Remember though that what God has to offer as a reward is yet to come and all the enemy has to offer will rot and fade away. 

Matthew 6:19-21

    "Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or-worse!-stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.