God's Spinet

Me: Lord, I long to be capable of worshipping you in proportion to your glory.

God: You are the instrument.

Me: Yes, but our old spinet is so inferior. So am I. It is already out of tune again. 

God: Do you think that if Mozart sat down to your piano, he could not make it brilliant? 

Me: No. He could make it sing. 

God: Even so. I am your Mozart. 

Me: "You have this treasure in jars of clay..."

God: Yes. 

Me: I am the clay. 

I look down at my body where I am sitting and seem to see and feel intense light piercing a plain, earthen vessel. 

Me: Yes, I see. You are already here! It is already apparent this surpassing greatness is from God and not from myself. 


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