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Clay

28September2011

“Yet, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” Isaiah 64:8

 

I’ve already bragged about my new baby girl—she turned 3 weeks old yesterday.  I’m still amazed every time I look at her precious little hands.  When was the last time you looked at an infant’s hands?  The detail is incredible.  Every crease, every wrinkle, every nuance is a testimony of our Creator’s creativity.  And, within these tiny chasms of skin, shaped in every facet, there is the fingerprint of the One whose image we all bear.  The best part of all is when I place my finger under that hand and those tiny—image-bearing fingers wrap them around my finger.

The earth was pretty boring when God fashioned Adam from the ground.  “No plant of the field was yet in the earth and no herb of the field had yet sprung up” Gen 2:5 There was dirt.  Just dirt.  A stream arose to water the face of the earth.  It was here that God formed Adam.  Dirt and water.  Water and dirt.  Some would call this mud—but it sounds so much prettier when we call this concoction clay.  Clay in the hands of our Heavenly Potter!

Have you ever seen a potter work at his or her wheel?  It is a work of art to watch an artist work!  The thing about clay is that it is only useful when it still holds moisture.  It only works when it is wet.  Potters can’t use dry clay—dry clay is a paperweight.  If we are made of clay we need to find ways to stay wet.  Fitting, don’t you think, that us clay pots need to stay wet to remain pliable in our Potter’s hand? The image adds a new slant to the motivation for remembering our baptism and to walk wet as we live out God’s mission.

So, what keeps you wet?  What keeps you pliable in the Father’s hand?  Adam wasn’t the only one fashioned by God—we all are.  And I don’t think we ever stop being shaped by His skillful hands.  That’s the other joy of looking at little fingers.  It is a chance to dream and pray.  Dreaming of what those tiny hands will do and praying that it might honor our Potter.  It seems easier to do this with infants—or children.  But how often do you spend time dreaming and praying of how you might be molded by the hands of the Potter?  How do you keep your soul wet so that you can continuously be reformed and refined by the Artist that created creativity?

SMN

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