clay pots

It’s a jarring reminder of God’s sovereignty and my purpose. Jer 18:1-6 says “This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: "Go down to the potter's house, and there I will give you my message." So I went down to the potter's house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, "Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?" declares the Lord.”

The two salient points of this prophesy by Jeremiah are that God controls what happens to me, and that He will do what he needs to do to ensure that I meet his purposes. Those are extremely counter-cultural ideas for Americans, who are taught from early childhood about individual rights, chief among them our right to choose.

I want to be my own potter. I visualize myself shaping my own life, setting my goals, pursuing my dreams. I’m hard at work constructing what I think an ideal life is.

But I’m a pot, not a potter, and the one who made me did so for a purpose. And, these verses remind me, if my shape turns out wrong for that purpose, he’ll mash me back into a lump and start over. I don’t think that’s a process I’ll enjoy.

At first the idea makes me resentful – I picture something drastic like cancer or loss of job to get my attention, although it could be something as non-dramatic as daily boredom – because I think I should get some say. But then I realize that it’s the most loving thing God could do for me. To let me spend all my efforts in life on something that has no value would be cruel. Administering an on-the-spot correction, as my sergeants used to call it, is far kinder.

It brings up the question of what my shape should look like. What kind of pot meets God’s purposes? By far the best life will come from not having to be reshaped at all.