In Love's service, only the wounded soldier can serve.

I want to be in Faith's Hall of Fame but I do not want to inherit the suffering that is my ticket in. Without pain there is no victory.

I want to bring God glory, but I don't want to submit to the dizzying effect of the Potter's wheel, the heat of the furnace, or the Carpenter's chisel.

I want to be God's voice. I want to laugh and sing. I want to be God's hands. I want to clap. I want to be God's feet. I want to run and dance.

But to be God's voice, you must be willing to cry. To be God's hands you need to be pierced. To be God's feet will find you dusty and smelly and nailed to a cross.

In Thornton Wilder's play, The Angel that Troubled the Waters, the story is told of a physician at the Pool of Bethesda hoping to be healed of his melancholy. The angel appeared and stirred the water but blocks the physician at the moment he is ready to step in and be healed.
The physician drew back as the Angel said that the moment is not for him.
The physician protested and the Angel explained, "Without your wound, where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In love's service, only the wounded soldier can serve. Draw back!"

I want to serve.

Am I willing to submit to the wheel, the furnace, or the chisel?

Respectfully,

Harry