The Fragile Bowl

by Sharlyn Guthrie











Life is great, the day is bright, I’m feeling satisfied.
It often seems that’s just the time my faith is sorely tried.
I’ll stretch a little higher, maybe now I’ll reach my goal.
My fingertips have brushed, and now dislodged the fragile bowl.
In an instant confidence comes crashing at my feet.
There it lies in shattered slivers, threatening my defeat.
One moment all I strove for was nearly in my grasp.
In haste it was destroyed before the next moment elapsed.

This scene has been replayed, and now I ache with a desire
To sweep the pieces up and drop them in God’s blazing fire.
His skillful hands mold broken shards into a vessel healed,
Each more exquisite than the last, His workmanship revealed.
The fire is hot, the process sometimes painful and severe;
But with each trial I’m learning better how to persevere.
When at last my vessel glistens, completed by His grace
I want to see more clearly the image of His face.

Exulting in my circumstance so tragic, yet assured
I find in Him the strength I need to patiently endure.
The confidence restored is in my Savior, not my self.
Tenderly I place it on a not-so-distant shelf.
Resplendent in its beauty, when I look at it I see
A reflection of my Master where my handprints used to be.
New hope expands within me, stirred by the Spirit’s breath;
A hope that never disappoints, and fears not even death.

(Based on Romans 5:3-5)