A Taste of Sand.


A psalm.

The Sculptor’s lesson to me in my sculpting season.

Food has lost its taste

And drink has washed down my loneliness.

Dread has become my sun

And my heart a well of sand.

If I had had it my own way

I would have her in my stay

And if I had my way

My flesh would not be in dismay.

Yet in my life

His Word has the final say,

Yet in my life

My love for Him

Goes beyond all others on the way.

My love to Him weighs more than all else

At the end of the day.


I have decided that

Obedience is my best form of sacrifice

And that my obedience will be all that will suffice.

And though obedience hurts

I know that disobedience kills.

And that this taste of sand

Will be the prelude to my milk and honey.

This taste of sand

A remembrance, a reminder

Of the day I turned to the Saviour.

It was all for Him.

By the Loved, to the Lover.


“And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so he made it again into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to make.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭18:4‬

“So Samuel said: “Has the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, As in obeying the voice of the LORD? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, And to heed than the fat of rams.”

‭‭I Samuel‬ ‭15:22‬

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