So often I connect songs to specific experiences. Yesterday we sang ‘New Wine’ in our morning service and I was immediately reminded of my long estate season. “In the crushing, in the pressing, You are making new wine.” I remember those days of soul-flattening responsibility: facing piles of paperwork, a myriad of impossible decisions and ugly phone calls day after day for months on end. I recall thinking that I might never reach the end of the details; the earthly entanglements of my parents were so vast and complicated. Singing ‘New Wine’ yesterday, finally on the other side of that mess, thrilled my heart.
Interestingly, a different line vied for my attention now: “Make me a vessel, make me an offering, make me whatever you want me to be.” I felt the Lord summon me to the potter’s house. So much so that I sat down mid-song and thumbed over to Jeremiah 18, desperate to hear the Spirit more accurately.
“So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping form the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as it seemed best to Him.” (Jeremiah 18:4 NIV)
My heart snagged at “the clay was marred in His hands.”
I worked with clay in high school; a couple basic pottery classes bring clarity to this text. Clay is marred two ways: externally or internally. Externally means outside force: a fingernail, a thumb, excess moisture, insufficient moisture, excessive pressure, inconsistent wheel speed. Internal issues are found in the clay itself: an air bubble, an obstruction, an impurity, fold or failure.
It hurts to think that we can be marred in God’s hands. It seems unkind, but we recall that a marring gives way to a reshaping and a reshaping results in realized purpose. It occurred to me, as the music swelled and I considered the potter’s motives; the scars of the last season may require an entire reworking.
Folding under the Potter’s touch is painful. In a studio, that fumbled lump would need to sit aside for a few days to find that right moisture level again before it could be thrown a second time.
“Can I not do with you, Israel, like the potter does?” declares the Lord, “Like clay in the hands of the potter, so you are in my hand, Israel.”
(Jeremiah 18:6 NIV)
God was speaking to the nation of Israel, specifically. He had built them up from nothing and could smash and start over if and when He saw fit. But because the Spirit led me specifically to this passage, I felt at liberty to swap ‘Israel’ out and pencil ‘Anna’ in.
God didn’t ask a question as the grammar suggests, He made a declaration. He stated it clearly: He alone determines our shape and purpose. Not one of us appreciates the smashing, the sitting out or the starting over. But do we really have a say? Creator determines creation, not the other way around. It’s tough for Americans, we are so used to getting our way. Maybe if we lived in a monarchy, we’d be better prepared to live subject to the Sovereign. God reigns. We serve. I’m still learning to live that out.
I keep coming back around to John Wesley’s daily covenant. If I were the tattooing type, I’d have it needled into my right arm where it’s truth could seep into my skin day after day, year after year. Let’s pray together.
Dear Lord,
I am no longer my own, but Thine.
Put me to what Thou wilt, rank me with whom Thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering,
Let me be employed by Thee or laid aside for Thee,
exalted for Thee or brought low for Thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty,
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things to Thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
Thou art mine and I am thine. So be it.
And may the covenant which I have made on earth,
Be ratified in heaven.
Amen.