Formed in His Hands (part 1) by @emilylaney

“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. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.” 

Jeremiah 18:1-6

Earlier this year I joined a pottery studio for a month. It was part of my “30 by 30” bucket list to take a pottery class and learn to do wheel throwing. I worked on a wheel when I was in high school and loved the challenge of pottery, so I decided to give it a try again.

I’m familiar with the references in scripture about us being the clay and God being the potter, but it really hit home for me when I began working with clay. Each step reminded me of the ways God works as our potter, and how we are the clay in his hands.

The first step of wheel throwing is centering. The clay must be centered on the wheel. But it’s not about where the potter puts the clay on the wheel. The potter should aim for the clay to be centered, but I learned that true ‘centering’ of the clay comes from the potter’s hands. It takes pressure from all sides to center the clay. The clay must be firmly placed on the foundation of the wheel and must allow itself to be centered by the potter. As I attempted to center my clay, I was reminded of how we must allow ourselves to be planted firmly in the foundation of Jesus in order to center our lives around God’s purposes for us.

After the clay is centered, the potter sets about molding the clay into the vessel. It takes a steady hand and precision to correctly form the clay. As long as the clay is centered on the wheel, the piece will begin to form, but the potter must be careful to create a piece that is in keeping with the size of the clay. If the pot is too thin on the sides, it will not hold its shape. If it’s too thick, it may not dry properly or it could capture air bubbles or water in the clay, which would destroy the pot in the finishing process. As I set about molding my little pots, forming a base and pulling up the sides, I was reminded how God’s perfect hand forms our life. Every movement is precise with purpose.

I am a beginner at throwing pots, so of course I had a few pots that didn’t work out quite like I had planned. Each time a pot collapsed or was marred, it was because the clay was not properly centered or was sliding around the wheel as I formed the pot. But if the clay wasn’t centered, I removed it and tried again. That process reminded me how even when we don’t center our lives on the foundation of Jesus, God never discards us. He forms our lives in his hands, and we are the clay, molded and shaped by the Master Potter.

The little pot pictured is one of those pieces of clay I had to try a couple times to create. But when its time on the wheel was done, I felt so proud. It’s a small pot, maybe four inches tall. Compared to the other works in the studio, it’s nothing special. If I tried to sell it I probably wouldn’t get anything for it. But you know what? It’s mine. I created it, I formed it with my hands. It even has my fingerprint on it. And as I stared with pride at my little pot, I felt my Potter remind me that I’m his beautiful creation and that He is forming me in his hands. He is forming our lives into beautiful pieces of art that point to Him. It takes time and patience, but we are in his hands. 

Emily Laney is a social worker, educator, and justice seeker. She has worked with vulnerable populations in the United States and abroad and loves to help startup nonprofits reach their goals.  She is a Passion City Church door holder and leads a team of abolitionists at Not for Sale Georgia. She loves her husband Brent and their rescue pup Biscuit. Sunsets and Sushi make her happy.

You can connect with Emily on twitter @emilylaney or on her blog www.emilylaney.com

"The Danse" – Part 1 ~ A guest post by Nya Jacobs

3 The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying:  "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness. 4 I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt, O Virgin Israel.  Again you will take up your tambourines and go out to dance with the joyful." - Jeremiah 31

You've come here time and time again.  But you always leave before you make eye contact, before you have to choose to commit.  But for some reason you always come back.  You see people mingling with each other, some there alone, like you.  You wonder if others are nervous to be there, or if you’re the only one who is unsure.

Ugh, I’m here again.  I want to stay but I don’t think I can.   Look at everyone else – they are so much more in tune and able and…ugh, I can’t.  There is no way I’m coming back here again.

You say that to yourself every time, and something keeps bringing you back.  It used to be curiosity.  You’ve tried this before, but you were younger, stupider, a know-it-all.  You’ve got some of the dirt of life under your fingernails, and you’ve learned how to survive...Well, sort of.  Now you find yourself coming when you have questions or when you are sad or tired. Most recently, you’ve come because there is a void.  You’ve tried all kinds of things, and it’s like pouring cloudy water in a cracked Nalgene bottle – it’s always empty before you expected, and it’s contents were sub-par at best.

It’ll do.

Well, it has so far.  But now…

Now.  Now you know the list of things on your bucket list did absolutely nothing for your soul.

Make $100,000+ a year.  Travel for a whole summer.  Do something illegal.  Skip a day of work for no reason.  Drink the most expensive glass of wine on the menu.  Spend a week at the monastery.  Become a master gardener.  Learn yoga.  Call my mom twice a week for six months.  Spend Christmas at the orphanage.

And you are back here, at the same place before you accomplished, tried, check marked your goals. And you feel just as broken and empty.  Then you see Him...The One you’ve seen here many times.  Sometimes He was very present to you; sometimes you really had to look for Him; but He was always there in some capacity.  You’ve never been this close to Him because you usually would have left by now.  You realize that you are experiencing this place very differently.  It feels sacred.  You feel overwhelmed. He seems to fill the whole space with His…what is that?  His…something. His aura?  His soul?  His spirit?  What is it that you can feel, pulsing through the air.  It’s surrounding your body like a cloud.  You can’t put your finger on it, but He and His whatever-that-is has your full attention.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, has captured you in this way before.  You are inquisitive about, ever thirsty for, a few moments near Him, but you are at a safe enough distance to observe and not be too involved yet.  You close your eyes to take in a deep breath to just ground yourself a bit.  You open them, and He’s looking right at you…

Hola!  I'm Nya, and I'm honored at the privilege to write :) When I'm not planning my September wedding (and preparing for my marriage!), I work with those recovering from addiction, cook and bake, take road trips with my fiancé, and plan my next creative venture.  I have a very soft heart for the country of France and the salvation of their youth.  I grew up in church but came to Christ in my late teens.  Grace has been a stumbling block for my legalism and perfectionism, but from God's word, I've developed this mantra:

And I praise You because of the wonderful way You created me.  Everything You do is marvelous!  Of this I have no doubt.  God planned for us to do good things and to live as He has always wanted us to live.  That's why He sent Christ to make us what we are.  For sin shall not have dominion over you: you are not under the law, but under grace. Ps 139:14, Eph 2:10, Rom 6:14

Feel free to connect with me on Twitter @createdwell.