I may be 76 years old, but I greatly enjoy sitting down and reading the Sunday School papers on Sunday afternoon! This past Sunday, the following poem spoke to my heart and challenged me. I trust it will speak to your heart, as well.
"One night, 'twas a Saturday evening, I sat alone in my room,
Watching the fading daylight and the steadily gathering gloom.
And I longed and watched for an opening--a word for the Master to say
E'er the twilight gave place to darkness and the week had died away.
I knew that there had been moments afforded me thro' the week
When I might have witnessed for Jesus, but I hadn't the heart to speak.
And now when I would have spoken, the privilege was denied;
So I went in my sorrow to Jesus, and 'Why is it thus?' I cried.
Ah! The Master knew all about it; so He said (and I knew 'twas right),
'The tool is too blunt for service. I cannot use it tonight.'
The sword to be used must be sharpened---must be hid in the Master's hand;
The arrow, while hid in the quiver, must be swift to obey His command.
Oh! Christian, learn well this lesson: We can only be used by God
When communion with Him hath fashioned our mouth like a sharpened sword.
Then, polish and sharpen me, Master, tho' painful the humbling may be,
And make me an instrument ready to be used ANY moment by Thee."
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