Proud grandpa, "Popcorn", and grandson Lane, riding on Big Pop's tractor in Louisiana.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Flexibility
It's been awhile since my last post, you might have noticed. I've been quite busy. I'm approaching a slow season in my business, and have decided to pick this up again and try my hand at this more regularly. So, here goes. Don't konw if anyone will "get" me, or what I tend to wax eloquent about, but here's what's on my mind today. Enjoy, reply, respond, forward, or whatever. I just had to get this out! Here goes...
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If you bend, you won’t break…
I took a course in ceramics my senior year in college. I needed a few more credits. I didn’t want to have to “study” for anything else that was going to take a lot of work. And I loved to see those beautiful works of art take shape on the wheel under the hand of the potter. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the clay and make something beautiful.
The first night in class, the professor did, indeed, let us have a shot at the wheel. He gave us each a lump of clay, showed us how to get the wheel spinning, and slopped a loose lump of clay down in front of us. Several hours later, after we were finished cleaning the clay off the ceiling, out of our ears, noses, and hair, we realized we had a lot to learn about the wheel.
So we had to start learning how to work with clay. The next night, I made a giraffe. Actually, it was a freak of nature. Sort of a giraffe crossed with an armadillo, with a little porcupine mixed in. Maybe a horn from a rhino got in there somehow. And what’s funny is, I started out to make a vase. I’m sure my mother was very proud.
One of the things we learned about clay is, you can always work with it and make changes and adjustments. As long as it is flexible. If you let the clay start to dry out and become stiff, it won’t bend anymore, it will break. So when you take a break from working on your giraffe-a-dillo-rhino, you have to cover it with damp cheesecloth, or when you come back, you’re stuck with what you’ve got. It’s too late. You try to bend it, or shape, or fix, or smooth out the rough edges, and it shatters into a thousand pieces. So what we learned is, until you’re completely satisfied with the piece you’re creating… until you’re sure you’re finished with it, keep it covered, or you’ll have to start all over from scratch.
I wonder if we’ve learned this lesson in our relationship with our heavenly potter? Until we’re sure He’s finished with us, until we’re positive we’re just like He wants us to be, we need to be sure we remain flexible. We need to make certain we’re covered in the heavenly cheesecloth that keeps us moldable and makes us flexible in His hands… Know what that is? Prayer. Are you soft in the Father’s hands? Or have you already become rigid and unyielding to the Master’s touch? Remember, if you don’t bend, you’ll break.
I don’t want the potter to have to start all over again with me. Lord, cover me, keep me flexible, mold me into just who and what you need me to be. You’re the master potter, and you know what you need me to be. I trust you. I trust your hands.
Remaining flexible in His service...
---------------------------------------------------------
If you bend, you won’t break…
I took a course in ceramics my senior year in college. I needed a few more credits. I didn’t want to have to “study” for anything else that was going to take a lot of work. And I loved to see those beautiful works of art take shape on the wheel under the hand of the potter. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the clay and make something beautiful.
The first night in class, the professor did, indeed, let us have a shot at the wheel. He gave us each a lump of clay, showed us how to get the wheel spinning, and slopped a loose lump of clay down in front of us. Several hours later, after we were finished cleaning the clay off the ceiling, out of our ears, noses, and hair, we realized we had a lot to learn about the wheel.
So we had to start learning how to work with clay. The next night, I made a giraffe. Actually, it was a freak of nature. Sort of a giraffe crossed with an armadillo, with a little porcupine mixed in. Maybe a horn from a rhino got in there somehow. And what’s funny is, I started out to make a vase. I’m sure my mother was very proud.
One of the things we learned about clay is, you can always work with it and make changes and adjustments. As long as it is flexible. If you let the clay start to dry out and become stiff, it won’t bend anymore, it will break. So when you take a break from working on your giraffe-a-dillo-rhino, you have to cover it with damp cheesecloth, or when you come back, you’re stuck with what you’ve got. It’s too late. You try to bend it, or shape, or fix, or smooth out the rough edges, and it shatters into a thousand pieces. So what we learned is, until you’re completely satisfied with the piece you’re creating… until you’re sure you’re finished with it, keep it covered, or you’ll have to start all over from scratch.
I wonder if we’ve learned this lesson in our relationship with our heavenly potter? Until we’re sure He’s finished with us, until we’re positive we’re just like He wants us to be, we need to be sure we remain flexible. We need to make certain we’re covered in the heavenly cheesecloth that keeps us moldable and makes us flexible in His hands… Know what that is? Prayer. Are you soft in the Father’s hands? Or have you already become rigid and unyielding to the Master’s touch? Remember, if you don’t bend, you’ll break.
I don’t want the potter to have to start all over again with me. Lord, cover me, keep me flexible, mold me into just who and what you need me to be. You’re the master potter, and you know what you need me to be. I trust you. I trust your hands.
Remaining flexible in His service...
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