Three Little Nuggets  

Posted by Tiffany

by Tiffany B.

The air was crisp, and the sun had started setting. The rolling hills were soaking in as much sun as they possibly could before the last rays melted into the sky. Trees swayed lazily in the light wind, and flowers got ready for their midnight endeavors. But deep in the ground- unseen and unheard- lay three silver nuggets. Friends these nuggets were. They talked, and joked, had fun, and dreamed. One of their favorite subjects was talking of what they would someday become once they got out of this miserable, dark, and dirty place. The first nugget said, “I will be the sword of a mighty warrior! I will fight great battles and be famous for my many victories.” The second one said, “And I will be a beautiful chalice, and serve many kings and nobles.” The third one moped a bit. He didn’t exactly know what he was going to be. All he said was, “I don’t know what I want.” Secretly, He did know that he wanted it to be something great and daring like the first one, but at the same time, serving a sort of king like the second. But he was always too shy or embarrassed to voice his thoughts.

One day, the nuggets were chatting away, when some miners came along... The first nugget was found. He was carried away and made into a sword for a brave warrior. They fought hard and long together and won many battles. Soon, the warrior became one of the mightiest and bravest in the land, and all with the help of his faithful sword. The second silver nugget was discovered. He was taken and crafted into a sturdy and beautifully engraved chalice. He made his way to the king’s courts and became the king’s most favorite cup from which to drink; saved for the most pompous occasions. But the third silver nugget got left. He had heard about the others’ successes, and he began to wish that he could just disappear and somehow fade away into the darkness. But this little nugget’s life wasn’t over yet. He finally was found, and taken away to a little smith shop where he was divided into nails. It only made him more miserable. To be treated in this way? Where is my fame? Who am I serving? He wished the miners would have just left him in the ground.

As the years went on, the sword got bent and battered, and the chalice got tarnished and worn. They eventually moved on to lesser jobs. The sword was given to a soldier who had no respect for the blade and treated it like rabble. It had grown bitter and angry at life. He had loved and reveled in what he had been. To be treated in this way was a curse! The soldier that carried him was called on duty one night with a few others. Their mission was to arrest a certain man for some sort of treason. If there was anything the sword had learned in his lifetime, it was the knack for paying close attention to his master’s words. He had heard that someone had betrayed the accused, and was now leading the soldiers to the place for the arresting. The sign that would indicate which one was guilty? A kiss. The sword watched as the betrayer walked up and kissed the guilty one. There were others surrounding him, and one of the men tried brandishing a sword. In anger the soldier’s sword struck back and cut off the offender’s ear. That’s when the sword saw something that he had never before seen in his life. The guilty one healed the wounded man and said, “Put your swords away. For those who draw their swords die by the sword.” The sword was stunned and ashamed at the same time. He was beginning to wish he wasn’t a sword.

The chalice was sold at a market and taken to a merchants home. His life was quiet and peaceful now. In fact, he almost enjoyed being away from all the parties and glamor. He had learned a few things in life, and one of them was trying to be content. One day, he woke up in the cupboard with the house in a flurry. The mistress and her daughters were scampering and rushing about to do this and that. What is all this racket?, thought the chalice. When evening came, he was taken out of the cupboard and placed on a table covered with a white tablecloth that filled the entire room. After a few minutes, thirteen men came in and sat down at the table. One of the men took a piece of bread and said, “This is my body, broken for you.” Then when they were through eating, he took the chalice and said, “This is my blood, poured out for you” The chalice didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew enough that whatever this man was doing, it was something special. So the chalice decided to just enjoy the most he could of it.

And the nails? Well, they sat there in the shop. Doing nothing all those years. Other nails were used to make great ships, useful household items, and beautiful furniture. If only the third nugget’s nails could be used for something- anything! He sighed and trembled. Life was one big failure to him. Then there came a day when the streets were filled with shouting, screaming people. Someone came into the shop and grabbed the box of nails the third nugget was in! He held his breath. Was this the day he would be used? What for? Why were all these people shouting? When he was taken outside, he heard what they were saying more clearly, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” The nails started to tremble. Was that what his life was lived for? To kill someone? Why did it have to end like this?! The nails were brought to a cross where a battered and torn man lay. One by one the hammer pushed the nails into the skin tearing the flesh and bones. With every agonizing cry, the nails winced. The cross was put up, and the crowds started mocking the man that the nails held. “If you are King of the Jews, why don’t you save yourself?”, they taunted. At last, the man said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” At that moment, the nails finally realized that their job was not in vain. This man that they held was the Savior of the world. No greater King could be served, and nothing could be more honorable than doing the Father’s will.

One Little Rebelutionary  

Posted by Tiffany

*Dedicated to Rebelutionaries around the world who are faithful in the little things*

One little Rebleutionary, in a corner of earth,
Worked and toiled with “Do Hard Things” as her girth.

Doing things she didn’t necessarily like.
She watched her friends as they went on their hikes.

Using their gifts as they worked for the Lord.
Seeing the fruits of the works they labored for.

But this one little Rebelutionary, got easily discouraged.
Because the fruit of her works were not so visibly discovered.

She would whine and complain.
Not realizing the value of the work mundane.

She sat in her room praying a pleading prayer.
When she suddenly realized that Someone did care.

The work that she did was not in vain.
For she was beginning to understand, that the Lamb that was slain,
Did not see her work somewhat less than the others.

The comfort she gave;
The prayers that she prayed.

The little things that didn’t seem much to her,
All were a great deal to the Lord that she served.

When the one little Rebelutionary had realized all this,
She stopped her complaining, and found her work bliss.


Posted by Tiffany

It has a certain ring to it, that word. Filled with hope, excitement, and maybe a bit of apprehension. It's almost, dare I say, an enchanted word.

Sometimes I'll get discouraged about the future. Yes, the Lord has given me my dreams (or should I say His dreams ;)), but sometimes I feel like they'll never happen. It feels like other things keep getting in the way and keep messing everything up. That's when I think, Why do You give me these dreams, God? It seems that they will never come true!

What's amazing is that even in my lack of faith, God will comfort and encourage me from His Word. I've said it before, but I'll say it again - He is so awesome!

Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord. ~Psalm 24:14, NLT
You guide me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny. ~Psalm 73:24, NLT