To HIS Tune

It is he who made the earth by his power,
who established the world by his wisdom,
and by his understanding stretched out the heavens. (Jeremiah 10:12)

This Sunday marked the beginning of the month’s inter-church cultural activities. On the lines similar to the school or college based events like prose, elocution, recital, music, bible verse memorization, quiz and so on; children from each church had participated and competed to represent each of their individual church in the zonal event and finally state based events to be held later this year. It was the poetry or recital that had caught my attention this morning.

Essentially, man is created with each one having their own style of distinctiveness. In the natural order, even identical twins have their individual style, which may be felt by their close ones alone. Despite the special talent that each one has, when one decides to let God be a part of their lives, the music played has more eloquence and beauty than when strung alone. For this to happen, it is necessary to let go of the entire control of one’s plans and commit them to His Hand with each one putting their best forward. Plan but don’t over-plan or draw the minute exactness. Be prepared for things to go change. Trust those plans into His Hands. At the end of the day, even if things go haywire, the notes written, the music strung and the words will still be of the finest, when committed into His Hands.

But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (Mathew 19:26)

The Touch Of The Master’s Hand
Myra Brooks Welch

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 gray-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 an 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 people cheered, but some of them cried,
“We do not quite understand.
What changed its worth?” Swift came the reply:
“The touch of the Master’s hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
Much like the old violin.

A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on,
He’s going once, and going twice –
He’s 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’s wrought
By the touch of the MASTER’S hand.

“The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” Zephaniah 3:17