Written when I was in India many years ago. I was asked to speak the next day in a small church in rural India. I didn’t know what to say that would be meaningful for them. Early that morning, I woke up with the words of this poem coming together, As they sat on their grass mats, the people listened intently to the translation and nodded frequently, I wasn’t so different from them after all
Gwenda
OCCUPIED
I am not a stonecutter
I am the stone being cut.
Jesus Christ is the stonecutter
And He is cutting me into a living stone to be built into a spiritual house.
I am not a potter
I am the clay being formed.
Jesus Christ is the potter
He is shaping me into a vessel fit for His use.
I am not an iron worker
I am the iron in the fire.
Jesus Christ wields the hammer
In the fire of difficulties He tries me so that I may come forth as gold.
I am not a carpenter
I am the wood being fashioned
Jesus Christ is the carpenter
He cuts His designed pattern and then planes the rough edges of my character.
I am not a teacher
I am the one being taught.
Jesus Christ is the teacher
From the depths of His word He expounds wisdom.
I am not a musician
I am the instrument being played.
Jesus Christ is the musician
So that I may make melody in my heart to God.
I am not a dressmaker
I am the garment being sewn.
Jesus Christ is the sewer.
Into the seams of my life He sews His love with patience.
I am not a bookbinder
I am the book being written
Jesus Christ is the Author and Finisher
That on the pages of my life all men may read of God’s saving grace.
I am not a water drawer
I am the one who drinks the water.
Jesus Christ draws water to offer and it is living water so that I will never thirst again.
I am not a porter
I am the one being carried
Jesus Christ carries me
Always, underneath are the everlasting arms.
And you, my brothers and sisters
Jesus Christ is occupied with you too.
