Being on the Potter's wheel.

My life is far from flawless and on this side of eternity it never will be perfect. Everything tends toward disorder rather than harmony without the work of the hand of the Holy. Weeds grow in the soil of my heart. My soul needs to submit to constant tending - the pruning of a skilled gardener, the watering of the Word, the sowing of new seed. Fruit isn't borne on a barren tree and so there is no reason why fruit should appear in the life of one who hasn't spent the time allowing the Maker to tend this soul-tree.
I am one that struggles with impatience. I have a hard time accepting that life isn't exactly the way I want it right now and that I am not the way I want to be today. It's not easy to embrace life with all it's perceived faults and choose to receive it as all as grace, looking for the gifts in the moment. Part of my wrestling is with expectations about life that I picked up through the years. Expectations can kill what is given as a gift from the hand of the Father. Expectations can cause me to rail hard against my reality and refuse to see how God is lovingly working with the clay of my life in ways that I can't control and wouldn't necessarily choose. Even so, His ways are perfect and sometimes he has to work out the hardened, dry edges of my soul. I don't like that so much but if only I could trust Him and see the plan that he is working from, the picture of the finished product, I would find being the clay in the Potter's hand more of a joyful experience. Sometimes I get the sense that he has me on the wheel, the pressure of his beautiful thumb bearing down on the back of my neck as He tries to align my will. I don't like it, the spinning, the disorientation, the weight bearing down, but what He is forming is going to be stunning. We are on the Potter's wheel for a lifetime. Learning how to enjoy that molding from the Father while I am the clay is going to help me willingly yield to His artistry in my life. He breaks off the hard clay of expectation and works in me to form His reality so that I can see the Holy right here, right now. He is with me in the middle of an imperfect life and His ancient hand holds the clay in light - beautiful, yet unfinished.


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