The Artist

I am a piece of rock

Marble to be exact

Freshly drawn up

Out of the dirt

The Artist stands back and waits

When the time is right

He blows across the surface

Wipes away the dirt

And sets to work

He sees inside of me

What He intends to bring forth 

The Artist chips me away

Carefully chisels 

(I do not like the chisel)

He removes what does not belong

The Artist steps back and waits

Again He approaches

Blows across the surface

Wipes away the dust

And sets to work

More chiseling

(I still do not like the chisel)

But I begin to see a glimpse

Of something taking shape,
Of what He's trying to bring forth

The Artist steps back and looks

And smiles

And waits

On and on it goes -

The chiseling, the blowing,

The wiping away of dirt and dust

He removes the bits of me

That do not belong

I thought some of those bits were rather nice.

What was wrong with that one over there? 

I feel exposed

And, the waiting

Why the long waiting?

Will it ever end?

What is He trying to bring forth?

But, the smiling -

That I like. It reassures.

He must see a glimpse now

Of what it is He intends to bring forth

Finally He steps back and looks 

Only a few minor adjustments remain 

The Artist now has a twinkle in His eye

He steps back and waits

When the time is right 

Carefully and lovingly

He sands away the final remains 

Of what does not belong

The artist steps back

And smiles

(I think I see a tear)

He calls for His friends

To come and see what has been wrought

From this piece of rock

Once rough and covered with dirt

It now stands in completion

In perfection

It's what He always intended to bring forth
It's what He saw inside all along:

I'm pure white marble, made in the image of His Son.

I am perfect.

I am clean.

I am amazed.

And it was worth the pain.

This is not my normal flow, y'all and I really can't even believe I'm putting this out there. I started writing this, mentally, yesterday morning. Interestingly, last night someone shared Isaiah 51:1, which I don't recall seeing before. I'm sure I've read it and glossed over it before, but given what I was "writing," it caught my attention. Though it's written to Israel, the entire chapter encouraged my heart, specifically.

Isaiah 51:1 says, "Listen to me, you who pursue godliness, who seek the Lord! Look at the rock from which you were chiseled, at the quarry from which you were dug!" (Isaiah 51:1 NET)