Time can be our friend, for with the ticking and waiting comes silence and solitude. In the solitude, the pruning begins, sometimes gentle, often fierce, yet the heart is cradled and loved through bending and shaping of the will.
I’ve lost count of the clock ticking, hours passing, days fleeting and months waiting. Lifting up prayers of urging have shaped me and pruned me to see things beyond an earthly perspective.
Never has my spirit groaned with such intensity. Never has my heart felt and yearned so deeply. First the groanings were selfish because I could not see past the urgency and fear of the situation. All words were formed as questions and at times as veiled accusations, slung toward the One who was supposed to have all the answers.
“Groanings which cannot be uttered are usually prayers which cannot be refused.” Charles Spurgeon
Chipping….leveling….discarding….smoothing. The Sculptor‘s hands moved with such precision as the clock ticked. There was no time constraint as He was lost in the great plan, His great plan, not mine
He gave no reason for His actions, no inkling of what was to come, only the promise that He would not leave and would not cease. His tender kneading penetrated deeply until my heart, softening rigid notions and ideals. Dry, calloused places, long exposed to the worldly ego were watered with mercy until my will was ready to surrender to a plan higher than my own comfort.
“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10
Still the groanings came but now they were different. Lost was the urgency for self. What was at stake was profound in its eternal impact, and self stepped aside in the realization of the moment. More was going on here, and as the Sculptor washed away the haze from my eyes, I could see Him with such clarity….and I was humbled.
Humbled to be loved with such depth that not a single inch of my heart has been left undone. Humbled to be chiseled and leveled to truly see the Sculptors heart. Humbled to be chosen for this defining moment.
There He stood, strong hands working with perfect timing, orchestrating every detail as my soul groaned for truth. For Justice. For Mercy. For His name to be preserved where the enemy was threatening to trample and destroy. Discarded were the pleadings for my own security. Now, fully aware of a bigger plan in the sculpting, the image of self was being changed to reflect the Sculptor.
And then it happened….the final firing to burn away those relentless thoughts of doubt which pushed their way through the smoothing. My spirit ached for the Sculptor to make all things right, to make His name known, to etch His magnificent name over the situation and thus proclaim His will to be complete.
The final ticking of the clock, and the waiting was over. No more groaning would be uttered. No more tears would be shed. The sculpting was finished. The prayers did not go unanswered, and my heart is forever changed.
Forever changed by the relentless ticking of time….forever changed by the will of the Sculptor.
When was the last time you were fully aware of God’s working in your life?
How have you been changed through this chiseling?
Today I am linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee for #TellHisStory…come join in on the fun!