I am like a tool in the hands of a Master Craftsman. Unlike a tool, I feel, see, think, question, try to “use myself”. . .
As a tool, I am useless
. . . Unless I have been cleaned and sharpened by the Master.
. . . Unless I am held in the hand of the Master.
. . . Unless I am yielded to the Master and allow Him to move me in the direction He desires.
. . . Unless I am content to chisel away at the tiny spot He has given me and not take credit for the larger carving or try to do the work of other tools.
I am not the Craftsman.
I am not responsible for deciding what work (ministry) to do, or what kind of carving the Craftsman should make. Sometimes it hurts to be used against the rough wood of life. Sometimes He uses me in a dark corner, and I get discouraged because I cannot see the whole thing.
When the Master sees dullness in me that needs sharpened, I ought to be thankful that He loves me enough to keep me useful for His service instead of complaining that the sharpening hurts.
As a tool, I want to be used by the Master. But I remember that He is the one doing the work. There is no room for boasting, only humble rejoicing. Here I am Lord, use me.