My life is on the wheel
Why are His hands changing me?
Poking, prodding, pounding (it feels like punishment sometimes)
Moisture pouring out of me.
His hands working,
What is He creating in me?
What does He see?
Is there a purpose in the pain?
Stretching, sensing, swirling, struggling
I’m smaller than I used to be, it seems
Then taller beyond my clay of dreams
The wheel- still spinning
I’m dizzy with change
I feel like I’m going nowhere at light speed!
The wheel slows as his eyes scan my shell
And he sees it.
I was hoping that he’d over look it.
Halfway hoping he would cast me aside and move on to a more fitting lump of clay.
Divine rejection is what I feel. Rejection that He sees who I really am-
Broken, tainted, impure, unfinished
A catastrophic mess
Punished by personal demons and false aspirations
He picks me up again and throws me back on the wheel.
This is not the way it’s supposed to be.
The Artist’s hands- rough and scarred
Still working- it hurts because I’m still me
Can I ever be what He wants me to be?
He’s smiling as He works through catastrophe.
I’m spinning again- Oh God what do you see?
The heat of the oven- birthplace of sanctity.
Above and beyond all treachery
That separated my soul from Thee
Burning, glazing, waiting straining
I stand before the Master of clay
I see Him in full not in part.
The Master artist king
Regaled in glory
I didn’t know it then but I know it now.
He saw me in that mound of clay
He recognizes me.
And- He SMILES. He smiles at me.
And now I see Him
Who walked me through the fire of earth
And now I see him
The redeemer of broken things
The shepherd of lost sheep
The all-things-new Messiah
Worthy is the lamb that was slain
Worthy King of Castaways
The masterpiece maker.
And we will see Him as He is.
And we will crown him.
In awestruck wonder we will stand
His masterpiece of grace.