#stepintothepottershands
As I was cleaning a beach house one Sunday, God used a piece of clay to grab my attention. I was unloading the dishwasher to find the footprints poem beautifully painted on a clay coffee mug. I almost missed the words as I scurried to put the dishes away. I received this as a God wink and took a moment to allow this interruption to bring me great joy. The footprint poem derives from Psalm 77:19 NIV “Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen”.
This poem has become words I cherish since my Dad lost his battle to Pancreatic Cancer. Early on in his diagnosis, he heard God speak this poem into his heart one morning as he walked his dog Baylee. For the first time since his death, I realized that same God that carried him through his cancer journey is the same God that is carrying me and my family through our grief. Just like a clay pot can be molded and remolded, grief strikes, and I am like a piece of clay cracked with sorrow, watered with tears, and remolded with God’s grace.
It was God’s perfect timing to present this song to me this week, “In the Hands of The Potter” by Casting Crowns. Some of the lyrics sing; “But now sorrow beats down on me, waiting for you to come through. I’m all alone with my questions. I’m dry and cracked open, I thirst for you. And as I fall apart, come flood this dessert heart. Fall like the rain, living water. I know your way is best, Lord help me find my rest. And I’ll be the clay in the hands of the potter”.
There are angry days where I could throw that coffee mug till it shatters in million pieces. There are joyful days that I find myself smiling at my coffee cup, sipping as I reminisce. Whatever emotions come my way, every day I have the choice to step into the potter’s hands and let him continually mold me. We read in Isaiah 64:8NIV “Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand”.
Grief could be so many things. Like the loss of a dog, a broken marriage, the death of a love one, or the guilt we often impose upon ourselves. Whatever grief you find yourself in today, intentionally start each day by stepping into the potter’s hands. He is waiting to hold you in the palm of His hand.
In The Hands of the Potter by Casting Crowns