Chisel or hammer for stone or clay
I trust in Christ’s selection of tools for me today
I need not know the what or the why;
For I am learning to trust even while I wince and cry
Sharp blades prune off and lob the dead limbs
Even a stump is glorious if it’s been pruned by Elohim
Cut chop slash crush
Oh Abba Father why must this process hurt so much?
The options are many: tweezers hammer then a sharp two edged blade
I’ll choose to rejoice in this day the Lord hath made
Not to us but to His Name all glory belongs
He takes a coal and grabs them carefully with golden tongs
I squirm and I beg for a bit of relief
He cried too, a Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief
I say I trust Him; I don’t give it a second thought
But while I sit in the kiln, my flesh fights and yells for control saying “fight this with all you’ve got”
Me myself and I are brought very low
My King I see dimly but trust your tools make me grow
Your precision
Your skill
Your carpenter trade
How could I doubt the Ancient of days?
Oh how I adore you Elohei Tehillati the God of my Praise
Now and forever I’ll thank you for each tool you carefully choose
For more like my Savior each lesson produced
I Praise you Christ Jesus the Son of God and Son of Man
For bearing more fruit was always the goal of your Sovereign Plan
I Praise the One
The Only One
Who performs soul surgery
I’ll praise Him for each time He molded and pruned a wretch like me
