When I think of our spiritual lives, I liken it to how we are but clay in the Potter's hands, designed to go through the "messiness" of the pottery process.
Many of us have been crushed and broken by life's circumstances, often hardening our hearts and causing us to resist the molding process.
"The world breaks everyone, then some become strong at the broken places." Ernest Hemingway.
Hemingway's quote reminds me of times when I felt broken and how I found the strength to persevere in those broken places.
Looking back now (although I resisted the Potter), I believe He was still sprinkling "love water" on my dirt, softening it and preparing me for the healing power of His wheel.
Then in 2004, I took a leap of faith and dared to become wet clay again. I dared to embrace vulnerability and be molded anew. It's been challenging for me to give up control, to trust the process and timing of the Potter. I am, after all, a stubborn creature by nature and sometimes venture off His wheel—only to find myself "splat" back on again so that His loving hands can resume their work.
When we place our lives in the Potter's hands, it's just the beginning of our pottery transformation. Like clay has to undergo several processes before it transcends into a beautiful piece of art, the Potter has unique methods of working in and through us to soften our hearts and smooth out all the rough edges. It can be a messy and fragile undertaking because, in reality, our hearts don't become hardened overnight; therefore, healing isn't an immediate fix.
The thing is, this life will always leave us marred and broken in some way. So we will constantly evolve as our lives are molded and reworked here on Earth. Our part in that process is to remain open, humble, and pliable, which isn't always easy.
Why?
Because even when we are back on the Potter's wheel feeling good about our progress, a life twist can occur at any given moment, repeatedly testing our faith and making us less flexible in His hands.
One such test came when my daughter openly admitted she was gay. The shockwave initiated by her coming out rattled my core beliefs and caused me to become wobbly and off-centered on the Potter's wheel. Hearing the harshness toward homosexuality (especially at church) suddenly became like daggers to my heart as I cringed in the pew, not knowing when the preacher would indirectly speak those painful words toward my daughter again.
So for my spiritual and mental well-being, I took a two-year hiatus away from church but remained pliable in the Potter's hands, and even though I mumbled and grumbled and flopped around, I became centered again. During that time, my understanding and love for the Potter grew, and I finally realized that He loved my daughter as much as I did.
A short time later, the Potter opened the doors of Burns Mosa to our family. Their Christ-like love, kindness, and acceptance gave us a new church family, and Burns became a part of our pottery process, for which we will be forever grateful.
What the world may discard as a lifeless piece of clay, the Potter envisions something extraordinary.
I don't know what struggles you are facing. But please know this: You are not alone. You are not a failure. You aren't worthless. You are loved and redeemable. You are the clay in the Potter's hands, a beautiful piece of art, despite your scars. And He desires to mold you into the extraordinary vessel you were meant to become.
