Dangerous Grace

In a recent moment of philosophical clarity, the image of a sword entered my mind and rested on me. 

Have you ever thought about how a sword is made? Not one of those cheap mass-production jobs pressed out of a machine and sold in bookstores. I mean a quality weapon: hand-forged by a master craftsman. 

From what I know of ancient Japanese swordmaking, it was a long and complicated process involving several stages. Different metals of varying carbon content (usually consisting of bits of nails, wire, buttons, whatever) were heated, pounded, folded up to a dozen times or even hundreds of times, reshaped, folded more, shaped, fired and cooled, fired and cooled, fired and cooled to get just the right temper (soft on the inside for balance and flexibility and hard on the outside for strength and durability). Then it was beautied and sharpened. 

Swords were often tested to make certain that the craftsman had done excellent work. A common test was striking a blow to a helmet to see if the sword would break or cleave open the helmet. One famous story from the early 1600's tells of a swordmaker whose sword, when tested, would not cut the "test helmet." He was told to make a sword that would cut the helmet or commit suicide. The swordmaker put a wet sheet of rice paper on the helmet and told the tester to try again. This time, his sword sliced right in. The paper kept the sword from glancing off the helmet as it had before. 

It occurs to me that I'm one of those swords. Fired and folded. Pounded and ground into a razor-edged work of art. I am a thing of beauty. And I am deadly elegance in the hands of my Master. In His certain hands there are no glancing blows and with me He strikes at the heart of His enemy. That's why the enemy tries so hard to break me. He's scared of what faithful weapon can do. 

I am stiff and unyielding at first but He is patient, skilled, determined, and righteous. He purifies me. He forges me according to His design. Then He stamps His seal on me, gives me a name, and makes me His own. And in His hands I am made whole. I am made perfect. I am home.