But you, Daniel, close up and seal the words of the scroll until the time of the end. Many will go here and there to increase knowledge. (Daniel 12:4) (NIV)
One day a fountain pen decided he would write a letter, or perhaps even a thesis. He wanted the world to know he was important. The pen searched for facts that would be impressive on paper. He consulted a globe, a ruler, and books. Everyone was helpful in providing data. He learned a range of details about life and even the circumference of the world.
The pen couldn’t write without a hand gripping him and so he longed for someone to pick him up, that he might astonish readers with his knowledge.
When the master finally set out paper, the pen tried to think of something eloquent. Blips of information ran through his mind—two plus six equals eight and Magellan sailed around the world—but he had nothing truly significant to say. When he began to express himself, streaks and blotches appeared on the stationery.
The master stared at the pen, shook it and said, “What’s the matter with you?”
“I wanted to write brilliant phrases but I’m confused by the information I gathered.”
“Silly pen. Pens don’t write. That’s the master’s job. If you want to be valuable, stop exhausting yourself acquiring facts and know my heart. I need a pen that anticipates my loops and strokes until the words flow effortlessly onto the page. You and I can create breathtaking paragraphs, but only if you accept being a pen and let me be the author.”
Prayer: Holy Master, take my life in hand and write freely.