Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. – Isaiah 64:7-9
My daughter, Maggie, and sister-in-law Pam both enjoy building and molding clay into bowls, cups, plates and other vessels. Using a potter’s wheel they place their hands in the clay and work it until a piece emerges. Eventually, they coat the shaped clay with glaze then the piece endures fire that reveals beautiful colors and designs on the pottery. Many of their pots and cups adorn my home. I enjoy the beauty and usefulness of each piece.
In Bible times, people used pottery every day to store water, food, even documents. If the pottery broke, the pieces (called potsherds) were used to carry water, hot coals, and sometimes as a surface for written letters. As I go through the fires of life and find myself broken, God’s potter hands remain on me, his clay. Even broken, I am still his child valued and restored by him.