The Touch of The Master's Hand

As part of my personal study I have set a goal to do at least 2 of the following each day; study the scriptures, read and ponder a conference talk, study in the 12 Step Recovery Manual, or read a recovery resource book (currently He Restoreth My Soul).  I typically like to start out the day by listening to and then reading back through a conference talk or one of the wonderful talks that can be found at the BYU Devotional Archive.  Because for much of my life I was not in tune with the promptings of the Spirit and did not seek out things that would bring me closer to my Savior, I have found that there are a wealth of talks out there that I missed.  It has been a lot of fun discovering these powerful testimonies from chosen witnesses of the Savior in our day.

So this morning I was perusing talks from 10-12 years ago and I came across a wonderful talk by President Boyd K. Packer given in April of 2001 called; The Touch Of The Master's Hand.  He talks at length about the process of repentance and receiving the peace that only our Savior can provide.  Then at the end he shares a poem that I have heard many times prior but struck me to my very soul when I heard him recite it this morning.  It is so perfect for an addict at the depths of self-loathing struggling to understand his/her divine nature.

The poem is of course called, The Touch Of The Master's Hand.  It was written by Myra Brooks Welch and was first published in 1921.

’Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer

Thought it scarcely worth his while

To waste much time on the old violin,

But held it up with a smile:

“What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,

“Who’ll start the bidding for me?”

“A dollar, a dollar”; then, “Two!” “Only two?

Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?

Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;

Going for three—” But no,

From the room, far back, a gray-haired man

Came forward and picked up the bow;

Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,

And tightening the loose strings,

He played a melody pure and sweet

As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,

With a voice that was quiet and low,

Said, “What am I bid for the old violin?”

And he held it up with the bow.

“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?

Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?

Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice,

And going, and gone!” said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,

“We do not quite understand

What changed its worth.” Swift came the reply:

“The touch of a master’s hand.”

And many a man with life out of tune,

And battered and scarred with sin,

Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,

Much like the old violin.

A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine,

A game—and he travels on.

He’s “going” once, and “going” twice,

He’s “going” and almost “gone.”

But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd

Never can quite understand

The worth of a soul and the change that’s wrought

By the touch of the Master’s hand.

I cannot express to you how many times in my life that I have been that violin.  That I have looked in the mirror and saw absolutely no value.  I was dirty, dusty and broken.  I felt like I was simply wasting the world's time.  I was a mere shell of what my Father in Heaven had in store for me and I was completely incapable of ever breaking free of the dirt and dust that covered me.  That is how I defined myself.  I was most definitely not a beautiful instrument created by a Divine Father who loves me.  Not in my mind.

I am slowly coming to realize differently.  I am starting to believe again and feel hope that things can be different.  I know there is One that can clean away this dirt and decay that I have come to define myself by.  Just like the master musician who made the violin sing once again, I can become clean and vibrant.  I can start to see myself as being a person of value and worth.  I just have to trust in the Master's hand.  

~~~ I Was Lost