It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
Hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bid, good people”, he cried,
“Who starts the bidding for me?”
“One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?”
“Two dollars, who makes 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 up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet,
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said “What now am I bid for this old violin?”
As he held it aloft with its’ bow.
“One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?”
“Two thousand, Who makes it three?”
“Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone”, said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
“We just don’t understand.”
“What changed its’ worth?”
Swift came the reply.
“The Touch of the Masters Hand.”

And many a man with life out of tune,
All battered with bourbon and gin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin.
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is 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 is wrought
(Myra Brooks Welch, 1877 – 1959, The Touch of the Master’s Hand.)

You probably notice that I did something different with this week’s article. I’m using the poem, “The Touch of the Master’s Hand,” by Myra Brooks Welsh instead of my poem as I usually do. Why? Two main reasons. First, in shock I noticed that an error in scheduling led to the release of this week’s article days before it was due. Sending out another mail to explain that would have been too much for one week. Please accept my sincere apologies.

Secondly, the picture that accompanies this article provides the second answer. I have become an avid photographer and God’s faithful provision has ensured that we own all the pictures used on the SoarwithGlory website. This particular picture of a lighthouse was taken during one of my vacations in Cape Town, South Africa. I love light houses, and even though I knew it was a long shaky shot, I decided to take the picture anyway. While going through my pictures, my friend who is a photo expert commented that according to good photographic composition, this picture was particularly bad. It actually missed on all points. It was taken from a moving vehicle with a low shutter speed thus blurring the fore-ground. The subject is not dominant but rather stuck in the lower quarter frame of the picture. The horizon is in the middle of the picture – another no-no. It was shot at an angle, and on and on read the disqualifying list.

I concluded the picture was useless. A couple of weeks later, my professional friend worked on the picture and sent it back to me. This time, instead of a picture worthy of the trash, it was transformed into a beauty! I couldn’t hold back the exclamation, “Wow!” What made such a terrible shot so magnificent? It has motion, but it conveys a sense of stillness. It has chaos, yet it instills peace. It seems lonely, yet it is surrounded. It lacks color, yet its colors are hypnotizing. It is calm, yet it conjures up visions of stormy nights and ships narrowly saved by the gleam of its light across a wild and dark sea. It is silent, yet one can hear the angry waves beating against the rocks and concrete. It seems beaten, yet it stands like a victor! What made the difference? What changed?

My friend answered the question, “It was the touch of a Master’s hand.” The master’s hand transformed a write-off, qualified for the bin, into a masterpiece that is fit for international display. That is typical of what God does with our lives, our failures, our inadequacies, when we turn them over to Him in trust. He turns around, all the things that worked against us, and makes melody out of our lamentations. The touch of God transforms what we write off as failures and losses, into successes and profits. May be it’s time to stop trying to fix the mess. If you can drop those ashes in His hands, the Master will take and make them beautiful because sometimes things already said do not need rewriting, just retelling!

Blessings on your week.

Glory!