a Love Story the Clay February 14

a LOVE STORY
February 14th, 2021

The Clay

Jeremiah 18:1-6, ‘This is the message that came to Jeremiah from the Lord. “Jeremiah, go down to the potter’s house. I will give you my message there.” So I went down to the potter’s house and saw him working with clay at the wheel. He was making a pot from clay. But there was something wrong with the pot. So the potter used that clay to make another pot. With his hands he shaped the pot the way he wanted it to be. Then this message from the Lord came to me: “Family of Israel, you know that I can do the same thing with you. You are like clay in the potter’s hands and I am the Potter.” This message is from the Lord (ERV).’

Night had fallen all around the old workshop and a chill filled the room. When darkness ate up the light, the Potter noticed hope seemed to slink to the corners and blemishes broke out of hidden places. He had worked tirelessly for so long. In fact, He had lost track of time. The Potter had been bent over the wheel while it whirred beneath His hands, sculpting, forming, shaping. His back felt like rawhide stretched across a drum and the tautness of sinewy muscles stretched to their limit had begun to complain long ago. The Potter blinked back fatigue, just another few turns.

When at last the whirr of the wheel quieted and the workmanship came to a halt, the wizened old Potter unfolded Himself from His stool, unfurled the stiffness like a once wet rag, now frozen rigidly. He held flame to a wick of a burned-out candle and suddenly a glow lit the back reaches of the shop and a shadow danced across the workbench and shimmied on the wall. He refocused, allowing His eyes to become accustomed to its surroundings, and then ever so slowly, He picked up His artwork, holding her up to the cheerful glimmer of candlelight. “Aha,” He whispered. “This is surely an ‘Aha’ moment!” He said joyfully. “You are beautiful! You are My Master-Peace! You are finished! Have I great intentions for you, My beauty!” He uttered wildly.

Then the Potter grew so quiet and thoughtful. Until He unearthed this jewel. He remembered the very moment. He had summoned this abstraction out of hiding, drawn this piece to Himself with loving kindness, had sculpted the handiwork from nothing into something, had exhaled life into clay and existence had inhaled in response. But He still had not been satisfied. The piece was restless, conformed, raw and chiseled, engraved by life, unyielding, marred and rough hewn from masking what the vessel held inside. He recalled the sound of His voice as it had broken the silence in the workshop. “Who told you?” He had asked. He asked a second time, “Who told you?” as a hundred billion dreams threatened to die. Passionately, He had cried, “Who told you, you are naked? Who told you, you are not enough? Who told you, you are worthless? Who told you, you are fractured beyond repair? Who told you?” He had asked one final time as He lowered Himself to His stool, the wheel whirring to life again, His gnarled fingers going to work once more.

His handiwork now shone in front of Him, coming to life in the palms of His hands. “I told you,” He whispered softly, “the thoughts I think toward you, thoughts for good, for a future you can believe in. I knew You would come to Me and I would be there; you would call on Me and I would listen. When you came looking for Me, you found Me. When you get fed up with everything else, and you got serious about Me and wanted Me more than anything else, I was easily found by you. You will never be disappointed by Me; I’ll make sure of that. You can count on Me.”

During the month of February,
come with me as we JOURNEY through
the greatest LOVE STORY ever written.