I sat at the wheel, “throwing clay,” dreaming of the vase I would create. My mind’s eye knew how it would look: the height to accommodate roses, the diameter to allow air exchange, and the gentle curve of the lip, just thick enough to withstand an accidental bump.
Round and round that wheel whirled, spinning the wet earth in mesmerizing motion, mounds of clay moving up and down to a rhythm all their own.
Until suddenly, the clay collapsed into a large gloppy mess. Too wet, too heavy, it wasn’t at all right for the slender vessel I had pictured. I needed to work it.
Gathering the gunky substance in my hands, murky liquid oozed between my fingers. Squeezing out the water, I then wedged the cool clay to work out the air pockets. I couldn’t possibly leave the water in the clay during the firing process. The heat would expand the water molecules, blowing my creation to bits.
I was not frustrated, this process happens a lot. I had learned to allow patience to prevail, and to enjoy the correcting process.
Oblivious to a ticking clock, I sat, molding that muck, correcting that clay, shaping the masterpiece from a sticky mess.
God tells us in Jeremiah 18:6, “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in My hand.” (HCSB)
We are that sticky mess.
That lumpy mass no one would dare dream calling a treasure, no one that is, except God.
God is the potter. He patiently molds us, as we make mistakes, smoothing our flaws, squeezing out impurities that harm us, and crafting each of us into a beautiful masterpiece.
There is one difference between that clay and us: that clay has no choice but to conform as shaped by the potter.
But we can choose to conform to God’s crafting, or we can decide to break free from His mold.
He loves us each, either way.
But in the hands of a knowledgeable potter, the clay won’t break apart in the fire.
In fact, after it’s been in the kiln, withstanding temperatures over 2500 degrees Fahrenheit, it emerges as a pure piece of beauty. It serves as inspiration, having withstood the flame, emerging refined.
But the one who refuses the shaping of the Potter’s loving hand, who stretches a bit thin in places, may emerge from the kiln cracked, broken, or even shattered.
Why?
Clay shrinks as it dries.
The Potter prepared for the effects of the flames.
We don’t see the fire in the future, we don’t know how or when we’ll break.
I can clearly recall times in my life I resisted the Potter’s hand. I needed some water removed, clay reworked. and structure reshaped.
That would take too much work, too much time, I thought. I can patch the thin places and withstand the fire.
But I was miserably mistaken. I was reduced to sharp shards, broken bits, and a pile of pitiful rubble. Under fire, I too, shrunk. I wasn’t strong enough to withstand the flames without His reinforcement.
In verses 7-10 we read how God is fair. If we learn to practice obedience, He restores us. He saves us from destruction.
If we choose to ignore His rules, we receive consequences, consequences of our own making.
He does what He says.
He is just.
And, He loves.
Loves enough to let us choose and enough to pick up our pieces and mold us into a magnificent masterpiece no matter how long the crafting process takes!
Prayer: Dear Heavenly Father, Help me to make the right choice: to choose to allow You control, and not me. Please help me surrender in obedience to You. Thank You that You love me no matter what, and that You are always waiting to construct my jagged pieces into a beautiful masterpiece! In Jesus’ name, Amen.