I was rereading this book recently for about the fifth or sixth time and I thought, you know, I need to share this because if it means so much to me, it may to someone else!  I read this book when it first came out in 2008 simply because one of my favorite authors, Max Lucado, had written it. I then fell in love with it as I’ve done every book he’s written.  Max has a way of painting a picture with his words.  I feel I’m in them, in the scenes he has painted, and to me, very few authors have that ability.  He’s kind of a hero of mine!  I hope to share more of his amazing books down the road.

Anyway, in On the Anvil, you are in God’s workshop, you see and feel the tools, the ones he uses to shape us, repair us, mold us.  I’ve been on his anvil many times, how about you?  Being formed, heated and reshaped, the rough edges sanded down. I so relate to his reference to the fire dying out and needed to be relit.

I am not going to give the entire book away, I hope you’ll get it for yourself (see link below), but I’m sharing an excerpt that I handwrote in my journal years ago. I hope it speaks to you the way it did to me…

On God’s Anvil. Perhaps you’ve been there. 

Melted down.  Formless.   Undone.

Placed on the anvil for…reshaping? (A few rough edges too many.)

Discipline? (A good father disciplines.)

Testing? (But why so hard?)

I know. I’ve been on it.  It’s rough.  It’s a spiritual slump, a famine. The fire goes out.  Although the fire may flame for a moment, it soon disappears.  We drift downward.  Downward into the foggy valley of question, the misty lowland of discouragement.  Motivation wanes. Desire is distant. Responsibilities are depressing.

Passion?  It slips out the door.

Enthusiasm?  Are you kidding?

Anvil time.

It can be caused by a death, a breakup, going broke, going prayerless. The light switch is flipped off and the room darkens. “All the thoughtful words of help and hope have all been nicely said. But I’m still hurting, wondering…..”

On the anvil.

Brought face to face with God out of the utter realization that we have nowhere else to go.   

Pound, pound, pound.

I hope you’re not on the anvil. (Unless you need to be, and if so, I hope you are.)  Anvil time is not to be avoided; it’s to be experienced.  Anvil time reminds us of who we are and who God is. We shouldn’t try to escape it. To escape it could be to escape God.

God sees our life from beginning to end. He may lead us through a storm at age thirty so we can endure a hurricane at age sixty. An instrument is useful only if it’s in the right shape. A dull axe or bent screwdriver needs attention, and so do we.  A good blacksmith keeps his tools in shape. So does God.

Should God place you on his anvil, be thankful. It means he thinks you’re still worth reshaping.

Max Lucado

On God’s Anvil

2008