The Story of The Vase - Charles price living truth - Truth bytes

I want to read to you a little fable that I had picked up. It says, A husband and wife were in a gift shop looking for something to give to their granddaughter for her birthday. Suddenly the woman spots a beautiful vase. “Look at this lovely piece of work,” she said to her husband. And he picked it up and said, “You’re right! This is one of the most beautiful vases I have ever seen.” At that point the vase talks (this is a fable, remember) and it says to the grandparents, “Thank you for the compliment. But I wasn’t always beautiful.” And the grandfather said, “What do you mean you weren’t always beautiful?” “Well,” said the vase “once I was just an ugly, soggy lump of clay. But one day a man with dirty wet hands threw me onto a wheel. Then he started turning me around and around until I got so dizzy I couldn’t see straight. ‘Stop! Stop!’ I cried. But the man with the wet hands said, ‘Not yet.’ “Then he started to poke me and punch me until I hurt all over. ‘Stop! Stop!’ I cried. But the man said, ‘Not yet.’ Each time I thought he was finished he would crumble and roll me up and begin to poke and punch me again. “Finally he did stop. But then he did something much worse; he put me into a furnace. It got hotter and hotter until I couldn’t stand it. ‘Stop! Stop! I cried. But the man said, ‘Not yet.’ “Finally when I thought I was going to burn up the man took me out of the furnace. Then some lady began to paint me and the fumes got so bad they made me feel sick. ‘Stop! Stop!’ I cried. ‘Not yet,’ said the lady. Finally she did stop. “But then she gave me back to the man and he put me back into that awful furnace. This time it was hotter than before. ‘Stop! Stop!’ I cried. But the man said, ‘Not yet.’ Finally he took me out of the furnace and let me cool. “When I was completely cool a lady put me on this shelf next to this mirror and when I looked at the mirror I could not believe what I saw. I was no longer ugly, soggy and dirty. I was beautiful, firm and clean. It was then I realized without all of that pain I would still be the ugly, soggy lump of wet clay. It was then all I’d had to endure took on new meaning for me.” It’s a bit twee I know, but it’s the picture of God taking the clay and moulding it.