One of the most beloved poems of all time needs little introduction. Read it and let it sink in. Believers are in a good place when we realize what God can do with us, as instruments in the Master’s hand.

‘Twas battered and scarred,
and the auctioneer thought
it hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
“One dollar, one dollar, do I hear two?
“Two dollars, who makes it three?”
“Three dollars once, three dollars twice,
Going for three,” But no,

From the room, far back, a gray-bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow.
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet,
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
said, “What now am I bid for this old violin?”
As he held it aloft with its bow.
“One thousand, one thousand, do I hear two?”
“Two thousand, who makes it three?”
“Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone,” said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
“We just don’t understand.”
“What changed its worth?”
Swift came the reply.
“The touch of the master’s hand.”

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered and bruised with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin.
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.

He is going once, he is going twice,
He is 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 is wrought
By the touch of the Master’s hand.”

– Myra Brooks Welch