Saturday, February 16, 2013

The Potter's Work Begins

"But now, O LORD, thou art our father;
we are the clay, and thou our potter;
and we all are the work of thy hand."
Isaiah 64:8

The journey here...
to the Potter's house wasn't an easy one.
I admit...
some of it...
was spent kicking and screaming.
After all,
why did I need to be made again?
Why a trip to the Potter's house?
Wasn't I doing okay?

I reached the Potter's door,
weak and tired,
battered and bruised,
sick of trying to figure it all out on my own.
My most feeble attempt was enough...
to connect with the door knob,
and turn the handle.

The door was easy to open.
Almost effortless.
Because He was there....on the other side.
Arms outstretched.
Wheel ready.
It was as if He had been waiting for me...
for a very long time.
Why am I so slow to understand?
Joy and gladness sprang into His love-filled eyes.
I've never felt so welcome...
in my whole life.
The door softly clicked shut behind me,
and I crumbled to the floor.
Exhausted from self-efforts.
More like shattered.
Ground into powder.
At His feet.

"And whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken:
but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder."
Matthew 21:44

What composes clay, I wondered?
Is it not fine-grained earth?
Produced by the decomposition of rocks?
Soil composed of mineral particles of very small size?
Kind of like a powder...
of sorts?

All at once, my purpose for being here became clear.
The pieces of mystery fell into place
as if every road I've traveled propelled me here.
The Potter was in need of clay.
Broken down, decomposed, crushed to very small size.
Completely worthless, apart from the touch of His nail-scarred hands.

Soon, I felt them,
gently scooping what was left of me,
off the floor.
His hands are warm.
I feel safe...
with a deep-seated understanding
that I am right where I am supposed to be.
That my journey here has been by Divine appointment.
He designed it so.
He needs a vessel.
In order to make one,
He needs clay.
This is where I come in.

As He tenderly placed me on the wheel,
to make me new...
our conversation went something like this....

"Lord, what do I do?
I don't know what to do!
Help me know what to do.
What is my this process?"

"What does the clay do?
In the potter's hand?"

"Nothing, Lord.
It doesn't do anything."


"But, I want to change.
I don't want to be the old, marred "me" anymore, Lord.
I didn't like what I saw...
in the mirror...
the day I made the long-overdue surrender
(see blog entitled, "My Trip To The Potter's House")
and made up my mind to come here.
I want to change.
I want to be the person you want me to be...
a vessel you can fill...
and use.
What do you need from me?"


"You mean, you just want me to be pliable?
That's all, Lord?"

I have broken you.
All that has happened has served My divine purpose.
You are reduced...
to mere clay...
in My hands.
The Stone has fallen...
and ground to powder...
the stoniness of your character.
This is the exact result I intended...
when you thought I didn't see or hear....
when you thought I didn't care....
when you didn't understand.
I had to reduce you to powder,
so I could make you again."

I listened, intently...
to the power of His words.
The wisdom.
It was all beginning to make sense.
The purpose of it all was coming into focus.

During the heartaches,
in the midst of fiery furnaces and deep trials through which I have passed,
a divine purpose was at work.
The unfamiliar, rocky paths He has required me to walk
were all a part of His plan.

On days I couldn't make sense of suffering,
the stone was grinding.
Crushing self.
To such a degree of fineness that it was no longer recognizable...
as self.
Until the particles were reduced...
to tiny, fine grains of dust.
Dust God can work with.
Dust He can mold.
Dust He can form...
into whatever He chooses.
Bringing me to this place...
of complete, unreserved, thorough resignation.
Resistance gone.
Excuses silent.
Full acceptance.
Total surrender.
Tension released.
Enveloping, all-consuming peace.
No struggle.
Just calm.

"I will fight you no more.
Do as you wish.
You know best..."
I softly muttered...
words hardly audible over the sound of the turning wheel
as the Potter tenderly, gently started His work..

He heard,
looked down at me,
 and smiled.

I am right where I need to be.
How long will this take?
I do not know.
Nor do I care.
I am so grateful to be here.
To have this sense of purpose.
To feel this sense of security.
To know that I am not spinning my wheels....
as He is turning His.

Daily, He is talking to me...
revealing His mind.
I feel like He has opened so much to me...
just this week.
I am in no hurry to leave this spot.
I look forward to each new day...
here in the Potter's house.
Because as it unfolds,
I learn.
More about myself.
More about Him.
More about what He is doing...
as I stay out of His way.

It is amazing how much we can absorb
when we really listen.

He is in complete control.
Can I tell you how good that feels?
I am on the wheel...
being remade...
It is exciting, really.
I have no idea what, as a finished product,
I will be.
What new purpose will I serve?
What new adventures await?
No one can say...except Him.
Somehow, I think this process will take a while...
but I don't mind waiting.
Not one little bit.

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