The Potter

In my late teens and early 20s, I fell in love with the craft of pottery.  To me, it was an “all-in” type of art where my whole body was involved in the process.  I really liked that.  I even had my own potter’s wheel as the mudroom of our first home together truly became a MUD-room!  Sadly, however, in my mid and later 20s I found that my back, neck, and shoulders could not any longer take the physical rigors of this artisan craft.  I would be left with blinding headaches and terrible spasms throughout my spine.  Of course we now have understanding of the root of all of these problems, but it was a sad day indeed when I sold my beloved potter’s wheel.

Though I greatly enjoy writing, poetry is an expression which comes only in fleeting fits and starts.  This poem was written in the very early days of my Christian journey, a time during which I wrote a lot of poetry about the new life I was learning.  It was a medium which the Lord used to help me work out the struggles of my heart.  With my pottery experience still so close to my heart, it was no surprise that the Lord tapped into that skill to show me some things about Himself and myself.  In these later years of my walk with the Master Potter, I see how this poem now also fits my recent blog theme of “Redefining” as I pass through very difficult trials of faith with my health.  

I had long forgotten about these poems but they were recently brought to my remembrance.  Marvelously, the old lessons learned are still useful today.  He is still working on me and He is as gentle with me today as ever.

 

• The Potter

A Potter sat to work the wheel,

The Master of His trade.

The task complete, He then did view

The vessel He had made.

But sore displeased for it was marred,

And perfect it was not.

The Potter set about to mend

The vessel He had wrought.

 

The clay however, would not give,

It soon waxed stiff and cold.

And yielding not to the Master’s hand,

Conformed not to His mold.

 

With patience, love, and tender care,

The Potter softened the clay.

“Behold, this vessel at last seems good.”

The gentle Master did say.

 The vessel now the Master could use

For the purpose He did intend.

Now with joy and faithful heart

I will serve Him to the end.