wondering if my smaller hands are even capable of holding onto the curved handle.
His hands are so much bigger...
...blowing away the splintered fragments.
He inlays His fibers within my soul.
despite uncertainty, clumsiness,
I trace the faded colors left behind from lessons past.
The stains of what was.
The promise of what is to come.
I work with Him.
to be fashioned by the Master! May all the world know they have been crafted by those hands.
Or precious in His eyes.
Then we are compelled to love in return.
Will you join us in the workshop?