Polishing Jewels...

     This post is going to take a slightly different approach then most you'll find here. For this post, starting with the 2nd paragraph, you'll be reading an analogy. It's one I heard from a friend at church, and one that I've expanded to fit into a longer story. I'm not going to tell you what it means...at least not now. It holds a lot of truth, a lot of my own story, and a lot of things that may be obvious. If they are, then I guess you know me pretty well ;) So, here goes:

     A man was working outside. His sons were helping him in other areas, but only those he chose were able to help him here. One of his younger sons had recently been permitted to enter, and what he say was not what he expected.

     "Dad, what's that?" he asked.

     "Well son," the father replied, "that's what I'm working on: the king's crown." He placed his hand on the large golden object and showed his son the holes in the sides.

     "See these holes here? A precious jewel will go in each one. That's what we are doing back here: preparing each of the jewels that will go into the crown."

     His son looked on in awe. "So, what do I do?"

     "You get to pick one of the jewels from the chest there," he said, motioning to the rather large, oak box in the corner of the work area, "and then you will work on polishing it until it has no spot or blemish."

     The young boy walked over to the chest, lifted the lid and looked in. Inside were all manner of jewels, in all sorts of colors, shapes and sizes, each one different from the rest. What they did have in common, though, was a covering of spots and dirt.

     The boy looked and looked. Each jewel was special, but none quite caught his eye. And then his eyes fell upon a bright green stone. It was covered in dirt and spots like the rest, but something about the way it sparkled drew him to it.

     "Now that one is a fine jewel, son," came the father's reassuring voice, "be very careful as you polish it."

     With a happy obedience, the son picked up the green stone, took the cloth his father handed him, and walked over to a spot under a tree. He began to polish and polish and polish, so much so that he started to get tired, but he kept at it.

     Soon, the jewel had almost nothing on it. It shone brightly, and the boy could see inside of it. As he gazed into the center of the stone, his mind felt a calming peace and joy come over him. The sound of footsteps brought his mind back, and he looked up to see his father standing over him.

     "Very good son. May I see what you've done?" he asked, reaching down his large, worn hand. A smile crossed the boy's face as he handed the jewel to his father. He watched as his father looked at each part of the stone, felt each side, and nodded his approval. Then the father knelt down and placed his hand on on the boy's shoulder.

     "You've done your best son, and I'm very proud, but this jewel is quite ready to be polished any further."

     The smile on the boy's once happy face turned to a frown. "What do you mean?" he asked.

     "Well, you see these white areas here? Those are small fractures in the stone: little parts that you can't polish away. I have to use a special tool to repair those."
     The boy's shoulder's sagged and his head drooped. He had taken a liking to this stone, and now he couldn't work on it anymore. He couldn't polish it further. But then his father's hand lifted his head, and he found his eyes staring directly into the deep caring gaze of his dad.

     "Son. This jewel is your gift to the king. Until it is finished and placed in the crown, it will be yours. But if I don't repair these fractures now, they will spread further quickly...and your jewel will split. Go, work where you were before. I'll call you when I'm done."

     The boy wiped away the tears that had formed in his eyes. "How long will it take?"

     "For each stone the repair time is different," came the father's reply, "but I think this one won't take too long."

     Happiness returned to the boy's face, and he left to go back to his previous task. He worked and worked, always listening for his father's voice to call him. He had been working for sometime, and the work had become noisy, but he was still listening as best he could.

     Suddenly, he stopped. Was that his name he had heard? Were the repairs done? He listened, but he didn't hear anything. Then again, his father wasn't one to call twice unless some time had passed or if it was dreadfully urgent.

     Putting down his work, the son ran to the gate that separated the work areas from the polishing yard. He pulled the latch, swung the gate open slightly and poked his head through the opening. He saw his father working at his bench with his tools. Stepping inside, the boy voiced his questions.

     "Father, did you call me? Are the repairs finished?"

     His father turned at the sound of his son's voice. Seeing the hope in his face, he walked over and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

     "Well son, what do you think?"

     "I think you did call me. The repairs must be finished!" he exclaimed joyfully.

     The father chuckled, glad to see his son excited to continue his task. He stood, took his son's hand and began to walk towards the bench.

     "Why don't we go see?" he said, smiling.

     The boy followed, eager to see what his father had done, but also hoping that he could have his jewel back.

     I know you are probably wanting to know what happens, but to tell you the truth, I don't know the rest. The story isn't finished yet. But as I continue to develop new pieces, I will compile them into posts like this one and you can read the rest. For now, may God bless you as He has been blessing me!