It’s been a long time since I blogged regularly. Hopefully, I can make this a habit again.
Since I last blogged, I’ve had two beautiful children. I’ve lost 50 lbs. I cultivated an impressive, full beard and kept it for a year. I’ve become more active in the church and taken the first steps into the deacon ministry. My mother passed away and went on to glory. My brother got married and had a child, in that order! My wife and I have newer and better jobs. Despite recent losses, and maybe even a little because of them, my immediate and distant family is closer than ever.
Life is good, but it’s not everything I would have expected for myself. I still rent. Despite a burning desire to own a home, my apprehensiveness about the future holds me back. I still have trouble motivating myself to do hobbies as well as chores. With two small children, I don’t dedicate the time to my wife that she deserves. My son is going to drive me nuts way before the acceptable age to be nuts.
So, I’ve got a few things to work on. You know what, though? That’s what life is all about.
Life is a process. We are all works in progress. We are lumps of clay that God is gently and carefully molding into useful objects according to his purposes. We can either help in the process, or we can struggle against it, but one way or the other, the artist will succeed and our destinies will be revealed to us in the process. Some struggle to the end, fouling their shape, and their destiny is misfortune. Others yield easily to the potter’s hand, and in the end, their beauty betrays their humble beginnings. The potter takes pride in his works, and he displays his best pieces in places of high honor for the whole world to see.
To be such a piece! To have my life be a beautiful work of art, one that magnifies the skill of the master, and brings him honor and praise. What a destiny! Any thinking person should want the same. We expect that of our children. We try to mold them according to our standards. We expect them to bring us honor in their actions. We well up with pride at their accomplishments. Why not have the same expectations for ourselves?
Let us allow the potter work his craft. The knife does not mar, it traces a pattern, complex and beautiful. The thumb does not crush, it smooths and burnishes away imperfections. In the end, is the vessel not a greater work than the lump? Is the will of the craftsman not greater than the will of the clay? I believe so.
Let’s see where this goes. Together.