The Blacksmith reached up and took in his hand,
A glittering bottle sealed with a band.
As He broke the seal and pulled off the cap,
The fragrance of hardship filled every gap.
Wondering what was His plan and desire,
I watched as He tipped the bottle o’er the fire,
The contents spilled forth and there I saw,
That my teardrops to the fire did fall.
To the blaze the Blacksmith added more fuel,
Kindling the flames so that they would not cool.
To the fiery furnace He closed the door,
And the pressure inside began to roar.
As the night melted in the dawn of day,
He opened the door and pulled the coals away.
He beckoned me close to His side that morn,
So I could see clear what the fire had born.
He opened his hand and in His palm did lay,
Not one wet teardrop or lump of cold clay.
Instead, there were gems, radiant and bright,
Shimmering, glittering, refracting light.
“Not one tear is wasted,” I heard Him say,
“But each one is kept ’til the break of day,
When it becomes – with great heat and high pressure –
A Diamond Tear, a gem of great treasure.
“For each Diamond Tear brings a lesson of faith,
To increase your trust in what the Word saith.
And when in your heart these truths take root,
Faith grows to anchor you absolute.”
“So don’t fear to spill the tears of your heart,
In My hand each Diamond Tear has a part;
To remove the dross and forge a strong faith,
So you stand firm and walk with eyes of faith.”
By J. H. Lee