I have longed to be like Jesus since the day I was reborn
With a heart formed by the Father, by His hands so strong and warm
For although my soul was perfect, this old heart had far to go
It was lofty and self serving; never broken, hard as stone

But the only way to change my heart was not to mold like clay
He must carve it with a chisel that would break the stone away
So pain became my teacher and its lessons I learned well
As every trial would test me with each wounding swing that fell

One day I asked my Father as He formed His shapeless art
"Where did You find that chisel, Lord, that breaks so hard my heart?"
He took me to a village, somewhere, long before my time
And showed me where a blacksmith, there, was working near his mine

The local king had ordered that some special spikes be made
To perform a certain service later on that ancient day
The smith stoked up his furnace till it singed his heavy beard
And the strikes that made his hammer ring were heard by every ear

Then he spun the massive whetstone, pressed each spike against its edge
And the sparks shot out like lightening as he sharpened up the ends
The spikes, still warm from grinding, then were gathered in a cloth
And delivered to the mountain with the prisoner and the cross

Instantly I understood just what he made them for
The chisels used to shape my heart first crucified my Lord
Now every stroke that life will bring I'll welcome like a prize
For every chip that falls away will make me more like Christ

Reclining in my easy chair
I drifted off to sleep
When suddenly my youngest boy
just bounced up on my knee.

"Hey, whatcha doin', Dad?" he asked
with eyes as big as dimes.
"My time is yours, my son," I said
"Is something on your mind?"

"Well, yesterday at Sunday School,"
His little voice began
"The teacher said to try to picture
Heaven if we can.

"And then she said to make a list
That next week we can show
Of all the things there we will see.
So, Daddy, do you know?"

I wrapped my arms around him and he
Felt my warm embrace.
Then leaning back he laid his head
Against my bearded face.

"Now close your eyes, my son," I said,
"Pretending you have wings
And flying high you’ll see a sight
Beyond your wildest dreams.

"Imagine first a bluer sky
Than eyes have ever seen
And light not from a golden sun
But glory of the King

"Then listen for the music heard
From angels all around
And run your toes through cotton soft
White clouds along the ground

"My grandma and my grandpa's there
Whom you have yet to meet.
Surrounding them are faces filled
With smiles from cheek to cheek.

"They live within a city lined with
Streets of solid gold
In mansion after mansion
Like the stories you've been told.

"A river filled with living water
Flows through Paradise
With just a sip your soul will be
Forever satisfied.

"Just think about the greatest day
on earth you’ve ever had
Then multiply a million times
And that’s the fun you’ll have."

My son then turned and squeezed my neck
And asked, "Can we go now?"
I smiled and said, "We have no wings.
We'll have to wait somehow."

He then slid down and spread his arms
As if to fly away
And shouted out, "I love you, Dad!
Today's my greatest day!"

Then rising up I watched him whirl
And spin into his room.
I shouted back, "I love you, son!
It’s been my greatest, too!"

Everyone who lives is given power,
With potential to control each soul we see.
All we do and all we say
To others make their mark some way,
Either filling them with joy or bitter grief.

Let's say one day you called upon your neighbor,
Who came to you to warm with their embrace.
For, perhaps, down through the years,
You had brought comfort to their tears,
And they still were filled with love left to display.

Something like the sun would burn inside you,
Like dawn was breaking deep within in your heart.
Warming everyone you met,
As this love to them would spread.
Even enemies would be as neighbors are.

Then every time your enemy would strike you,
Your instinct to his cheek would be a kiss.
He would stop and stand amazed,
Thinking you were somewhat crazed,
Yet, would want whatever caused you to do this.

Let not your power, then, be taken lightly.
In constant prayer, may this be humbly said,
"Father, fill my heart and mind
Till all I do and say are kind,
So to see me would be seeing You instead."