|Dorothy Lewis' Testimony
as to what the Lord Jesus Christ personally means to her.
The Lord Jesus is very precious to me. When I was seventeen years of age He came into my heart, touched me and made me whole. Now I can say with the Psalmist, "In Thy (the Lord's) presence is fulness of joy; at Thy right hand there are pleasures forevermore". (Psalm 16:11) The joy, peace, happiness and pleasure that He gives are greater than anything the world has to offer. Praise His dear Name.
It is wonderful to know that He is still touching hearts and lives. Hebrews 13:8 says, "Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and forever." "He saved others" in the past, and He still gives the invitation, "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." (John 6:37)
Dorothy J. Lewis
Dorothy's testimony is usually followed the poem below.
The Touch of the Master's Hand
"Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?"
"A dollar, a dollar"; then, "Two; only two?
Two dollars, and who'll make it three?
Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three---," But no,
From the room, far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
Two thousand! And who'll make it three?
Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice,
And going, and gone," said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand
What changed its worth." Swiftly came the reply:
"The touch of a master's hand."
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A "mess of pottage", a glass of wine;
A game --- and he travels on.
He is "going" once, and "going' twice,
He's "going" and almost "gone".
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.
Myra Brooks Welch
(Reprinted by permission of the Elgin Press from
The Touch of the Master's Hand With Ninety Other Poems)