LEARNING AT THE POTTER'S WHEEL

War, violence, sickness, pain, death

Some will sit at a table of plenty and be glad they've escaped difficulties another year,
while tragedy will be the reality for others.

We tell people that they should be grateful.
We heap guilt on them when they struggle with fear and doubt,
admonishing them that they shouldn’t feel that way . . .

Instead of weeping with the grieving,
comforting the hurting and binding the wounds,
we send the grieved off to weep in hiding,
the hurting to their silent suffering
and the wounded to bleed untended.

In our silly attempt to insulate ourselves from tragedy, we tell ourselves that we aren’t like them. That they must have fallen out of favor somehow and lost God’s blessing. That Providence is visiting justice on them.

We don’t stop to think that God has provided us with an opportunity to minister to another person.

We don’t consider the possibility that we will one day need someone to minister to us.

We see them there and nod politely and cross over to the other side, moving quickly away.

The truth is that we don’t really trust God’s heart towards us.
We know our own flaws and are sure that we've somehow overcharged our account,
that God's Justice could not allow US redemption.
Could He?

If we get too near the suffering or hurting people,
God might notice us and decide to bring our account due.

This Thanksgiving, one of the many things I’m thankful for is that God has never been limited by my misconceptions of Him.

There’ve been seasons when I thought I was alone.

There was one year that we thought a child might die.

There was that one year when I got a charity box
and another year when we fed the homeless.

There have been years of plenty and years of lack.

But I’ve never gone through a year that He wasn’t there, loving me.

When I sobbed in the darkness and accused Him of abandoning me.
He stayed.
When I accused Him of being cruel.
His love persisted.
When I doubted His motives and accused Him of not caring about me personally.
He was not easily offended.

He knew when I couldn’t hold myself together.
He knew what I needed and when I needed it.
When I tearfully reproached Him for denying me what I THOUGHT was necessary.
He firmly pried my fingers from my treasures.
Waited for me to calm down
and placed within my hands something so much MORE.

Sometimes, I am tempted to go back to my old dreams.
Some of His gifts don’t feel like gifts.
Occasionally, His gifts are painful.

But I’ve walked this road long enough to know
that He isn’t astounded or taken aback by my pain.
He doesn’t run away and hide when I despair.
He is there, holding me, waiting for me to calm down
so that He can offer His remedy, His comfort; His plan.

I found this audio clip of a boy named Logan today. You'll understand why I put it here when you listen.

Thank you, Jesus!