the potter

“So I went down to the potter’s house and there he was working at his wheel.  And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as it seemed good for the potter to do.  Then the word of the Lord came to me: O house of Israel, can I not do with you as the potter has done?  Declares the Lord.  Behold, like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.” Jeremiah 18:3-6

When I was in high school I took a ceramics class.  I chose this class because it seemed like the least artsy class that still fulfilled the “fine art” requirement.  We started with pinch pots and ring pots and all kinds of pots and then finally graduated to the wheel.  Sometimes, the pots started off nice and then turned ugly, other times they started off ugly and turned beautiful.  The challenge with clay is that the slightest change in pressure on the clay, a bit too much water or too little, or a slip of the hand can dramatically change the look of the piece.  However, the same attributes that can cause the pot to be disfigured also apply to restoration.  A little more water, a little more pressure, and some smoothing of the clay and the piece is beautiful again.

I somewhat jokingly named the “storms” that our family faced earlier this year.  At this point, I can’t tell anymore when one storm ended another began.  I feel like I have walked into the potter’s house and seen my son, a mess.  He is a pile of clay, still formed but battered, and I desperately want to reach my hands into the clay and try to mold it, re-shape it, heal those wounds, and shore up the weak sides.  But, like Jeremiah I too hear the whisper of the Lord, and he is saying to me “I am the potter, and your son is in my hands".