Isaiah 45:9 (NKJV)
“Woe to him who strives with his Maker! Let the potsherd strive with the potsherds of the earth! Shall the clay say to him who forms it, ‘What are you making?’ Or shall your handiwork say, ‘He has no hands’?
Recently, the image of the Potter and the clay has captured my mind. I began thinking about it after doing a word study on Psalm 37:4. I examined the Hebrew word for “delight”. According to Strong’s Concordance, two definitions for that word are “soft” and “pliable”. It is so convicting to realize that one way to delight myself in the Lord is to submit to Him entirely, making myself soft and pliable in the hands of the Master Potter. Isaiah 45:9 tells us the utter foolishness of a clay vessel trying to order its Maker around. We ought to simply submit.
In the classic Hind’s Feet on High Places, the image of the Potter is brought up when Much-Afraid travels through the desert. Here is the beautiful description: “There, on the next floor, they came to another and smaller room, in the center of which stood a great wheel, flat, like a table. Beside it stood a potter who wrought a work on the wheel. As he spun the wheel he fashioned his clay into many beautiful shapes and objects. The material was cut and kneaded and shaped as he saw fit, but always the clay lay still upon the wheel, submitting to his every touch, perfectly, unresisting.” Later in the book, another beautiful example of submission is given when Much-Afraid says “Only have your will and way in me, Shepherd. Nothing else matters.” The book also presents the imagery of laying our wills down on the altar. May we give the Lord our wills and desires; may we ask Him to conform our will to His own.
This hymn sums it up well: “Have Thine own way, Lord, have Thine own way! Thou art the Potter, I am the clay. Make me and mold me after Thy will; while I am waiting, yielded and still.”
My own words fail to say much more on this topic because there is so much that could be written about it and because my heart has been so deeply impacted by the imagery and truth of the Master Potter and His handiwork. But here is a simple poem I wrote. I hope it captures the tip of the iceberg.
On the Potter’s Wheel
Turmoil, chaos, trials,
Disappointment, pain…
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
Seemingly in vain
My life is spinning, spinning
As if out of control
But the Master Potter
Is sticking to His role.
~~~
I’m held in His hands as He’s molding me
Into a beautiful shape.
His hands are skilled and perfect;
His wheel is the best place.
I can’t see what He’s making
As He shapes and turns me around;
But who am I to question Him?
I’m just clay from the ground
That He considers perfect
For the vessel that He makes.
I, the clay, can’t say
“Why are You making me this way?”
~~~
I’m the earthen vessel
Being shaped for His glory.
He has a perfect plan for me;
He is writing my story.
Being formed can be painful,
As it is right now,
But there is no earthly reason
For me to question and doubt.
He fashions me carefully,
To look more like Him;
Through this vessel you’ll see
His glory shine from within.
I don’t know what He’s making;
I don’t know why there’s pain;
But I submit myself to the Potter,
To magnify His name.
Continue molding me, Maker.
Shape me as You please.
I make myself pliable,
Surrendered wholeheartedly.
