"But now, O Lord,
You are our Father,
We are the clay, and You our potter;
And we are the work of Your hand."
Isaiah 64:8
Jenny painted this clay pot for me 14 years ago this past July. Although she did not cast the pot she did, however, have a hand in the finished product. I loved it. It had bird houses around the pot with a scripture verse along the rim. It no longer exists. On Wednesday I asked Bob to bring down Itty Bitty's dresser drawers at his convenience so I could change out her summer clothes for winter ones. (I'm just a little behind here) I had the pot sitting at the foot of the stairs in a wicker pot holder. He didn't clear it when he came down and the corner of one of the drawers caught it and sent the basket and the pot flying. He offered to save the pieces, but it was beyond repair. It would have taken a master to fit all those tiny pieces back, fill in the gap where the clay disintegrated and paint it back the way it was. There was nothing he could do to make it perfect again. It was beyond his ability.
I have seen a few broken pots in my day. Some beyond repair like my pot. Some with just minor cracks and a chip or two ~ nothing that would affect its ability to do as it should. And some that had just a broken piece that could easily be mended. Not perfect as before, but almost unnoticeable. I was free to choose to keep them or just toss them in the landfill. Depending. Depending on how badly broken they were.
We are different than the clay posts cast on an assembly line. Slight imperfections can be overlooked and will get labeled as "seconds". Less impressive they are, but they can beautifully adorned so those imperfections would never be noticed. Covered by paint or stain or some other artistic medium. But their overall structure may be weak and vulnerable to everyday use.
But us, we are perfectly cast by the Potter's hands. Just as Jenny's pot is signed, we each have the Potter's stamp somewhere on us or in us! Even those that mankind may see as "seconds" or "culls" were deliberately and perfectly made. We were made to withstand everyday use. Not to buckle or bend under normal circumstances, and even when dilemmas challenge us, we are equipped to carry the weight.
It is when an outside force, one unexpected, perhaps much stronger, takes advantage of us that we may become the broken vessel that may appear totally destroyed. Broken beyond repair. Left to be claimed by the garbage truck, tossed in the landfill of life. That may be what the human eye sees. But the Potter knows His handiwork. He knows the strength of the clay He used. He knows repair is possible, even likely. He is gracious like that. He allows the observer to see not only the original piece of work, but the repair of the damaged vessel. It is an amazing thing to see a broken vessel heal right before you eyes. It is nothing short of a miracle. A miraculous gift from an amazing Potter.
I am glad my Potter is not of this world. I'm glad to know I would be doted over like a small child should I become broken. I'm glad to know my Potter will fix exactly what needs to be fixed. I'm glad I don't have to depend solely on my fellow man to fix all my cracks and dings and missing pieces, although they surely would if they could. And if my vessel were to become so damaged that repair is beyond the question, well, then, I might just be dancing in Glory with a new, perfect body!
