Anvil bound

I am feeling the flatness and heat of God's anvil and the relentless pounding of His Hammer. This is not something that I remember asking for (at least consciously, like one of those "Lord, give me patience" prayers) - but then again, I have prayed for God to guide me.

It feels like I am being stripped away, layer by layer: all the things I used to do and enjoy, all the activities I was involved in, indeed many of the people in my life - gone. He is constantly pushing me back to core issues.

Money? Everything I dreamed off almost 6 years ago when we started The Firm has gone. Indeed, when I was talking with The Ravishing Mrs. TB yesterday her comment was "It's humbling". And it is. We are now, for perhaps the first time in six years, seeing our financial lives clearly for what they are.

Involvement? I went from being on the Worship Team of a small church and involved to becoming a member of a much larger church where, for the moment, I am a face in the crowd. Not that that's bad, and you can always get involved later, but it suddenly feels like my usefulness in God's house has abruptly ended.

Dreams? I don't know that I have any at this point. Everything I did dream about was predicated on being in Old Home, or on scads of money. Now both of those are far off, at least for the present time.

Activities? For having moved, I seem to have even less time, even as I am made aware of the fact that Na Clann need me more than ever. And time not being a fungible commodity, for me to do something, I have to surrender something else.

The most dangerous thing in all of this is that I settle for the idea that this is only temporary, always looking for the way out or the end of the trial: "Okay Lord, I've learned enough. Let's get on with the program." The reality is, when the metal goes on the anvil, it does not come off in its own time but in the smith's time, when the project is finally done.

Lord, keep me on the anvil until I am the project you envisioned.