The Chosen Vessel
The Master was searching
for a vessel to use.
On the shelf
there were many -
which one 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 the 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,
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 bigmouthed
and shallow and loud,
Nor 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.
Spoke to it kindly
Theres work you must do,
Just pour out to others
as I pour into
you.
~ Unknown ~