the last time I heard it

the last time I heard it

I’m trying to study here in my office.

I’m working on the meaning of the participle “being watchful” in Ephesians 6:18.

I’m unraveling how it relates to prayer and applies what has already been said about power in the context.

And I’m listening to internet radio.

It is mostly instrumental but every now and then a song with words pops up.

This one did.

And it took me back.

And on came the tears.

Last time I heard it was during Christian Skoglund’s memorial service

“The Hammer Holds” Bebo Norman

A shapeless piece of steel, that’s all I claim to be

This hammer pounds to give me form, this flame, it melts my dreams

I glow with fire and fury, as I’m twisted like a vine

My final shape, my final form I’m sure I’m bound to find

So dream a little, dream for me in hopes that I’ll remain

And cry a little, cry for me so I can bear the flames

And hurt a little, hurt for me my future is untold

But my dreams are not the issue here, for thee, the hammer holds

And the water, it cools me gray, and the hurt’s subdued somehow

I have my shape, this sharpened point, what is my purpose now?

And the question still remains, what am I to be?

Perhaps some perfect piece of art displayed for all to see

So dream a little, dream for me in hopes that I’ll remain

And cry a little, cry for me so I can bear the flames

And hurt a little, hurt for me my future is untold

But my dreams are not the issue here, for thee, the hammer holds

The hammer pounds again, but flames I do not feel

This force that drives me, helplessly, through flesh, and wood reveals

A burn that burns much deeper, it’s more than I can stand

The reason for my life was to take the life of a guiltless man

So dream a little, dream for me in hopes that I’ll remain

And cry a little, cry for me so I can bear the pain

And hurt a little, hurt for me, my future is so bold

But my dreams are not the issue here, for thee, the hammer holds

This task before me may seem unclear

But it, my maker holds