Sunday, October 5, 2014

THE INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIP OF CLODS


We lay in a shapeless, huddled heap in our wooden crate on the back porch. 


Ever since The Man found us scattered in gullies and crevices on the mountain and brought us to Unknown Place, we lost all track of time. At least Out There we could breathe. Here we were mashed in upon each other, to all appearances we were nondescript clumps of primal dirt, quite homogenized in appearance.


“What do you plan to do with those mucky clods?” Curious Friend asked.

“I’m going to transform each one into the likes of these.” The Man held up some shining objects. 


We shoved at each other trying to see through the slats of the crate. The Man displayed to Curious Friend a splendid collection of highly polished stones that sparkled like diamonds.

Our hopes soared. We fairly trembled with anticipation to think that we would soon be lifted out of our anonymity and transformed by some instant miracle into costly looking gems.

“Come along and I’ll show you how it’s done,” invited The Man.

He dragged our crate out of the shadows. But instead of picking us out one by one and transforming us magically as we expected, He dumped all of us misshapen, mud-caked chunks into a large steel drum. Oh! How it hurt to be treated so ignominiously! How the jagged edges of each clod hit and scraped against each other!

Scarcely had we rolled over trying to get more comfortable, than steaming, hot water began to squirt over us. He shook quantities of abrasive powder on us, dribbled oil on the whole mess, then slammed the door and locked it. We were terrified in the utter darkness!


The Man flipped a motor switch and the steel drum began to rotate unmercifully fast. Scraping, grinding, banging, crashing, clod against clod we tumbled. We thought we could not endure the deafening noise and the pain of our forced contact with one another.


Continual spinning, friction, jabbing, crushing, knocking. How long? How LONG?

“It takes time,” remarked The Man to Curious Friend as they walked away together while our pummeling went on and on.

Much, much later He returned and flipped the switch off. The drum came to a squeaking halt. We were unceremoniously dumped out into a trough outdoors, nearly blinded by the sunlight. The Man turned a powerful spurt of hot water on us from a hose. Dirt poured away in a murky stream. Would our ordeal never end?

“Beautiful! Marvelous! Exquisite!” exclaimed Curious Friend.

Breathless and dazed, we lay there in a stupor until we realized that he was talking about us. We looked at each other and gasped with disbelief. Each of us was different from the other—sparkling, brilliant, and clean! We had been transformed from earthy clods to strikingly beautiful gems!

The Man lifted one of us and displayed it in His palm. “Look!” He spoke with delight. “I can see My reflection on the surface of this one!”

He explained to Curious Friend, “I can't polish one clod alone. It takes the friction of many clods against each other, together with Oil, abrasive, and hot water to get this marvelous result.”
*****
From THE RESOURCE BOOK

1 John 3:2
“Beloved, now are we children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we shall be. We know that, when He appears, we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him just as He is.”

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