Day 87 - A prayer before a potter’s wheel

Yet you, Lord, are our Father.

We are the clay, you are the potter;

we are all the work of your hand.

Isaiah 64: v8

I saw this image recently, and it made me pause and reflect.

Are those your hands, Lord?

You make it look so easy. You take the clay, throw it onto the wheel, and then slowly shape it into a thing of beauty, both useful and ornamental.

But I know that it is anything but easy. Behind the gentle touch of your fingers are strong hands and arms, moulding the clay, smoothing off the rough edges, and sculpting it - sometimes by coaxing and sometimes by pulling - into the vessel you want it to be.

Are those your hands, Lord?

They are not young hands, although in some ways they are ageless. They carry a lifetime of skill, wisdom and experience. They understand the clay; how exactly to get the very best out of it. They can see the beautiful pot or vase when all they are holding is a lump of raw earth.

And behind all that experience and wisdom is love; love for what they are doing, love for – and confidence in - what they are creating.

Is that your workshop, Lord?

It is not a quiet or peaceful place. It is noisy with the hum as you turn your potter’s wheel. It is messy with wet clay, slip and glaze everywhere. It carries the earthy damp smells of your tools. The heat of the kiln in the corner warms the room as it fires the finished pots.

A place of busy-ness and industry, and yet always a place of order, calm and certainty; never a place of chaos.

In some ways very like our world and our lives, but in other ways so different.

Are we the clay in your hands, Lord?

Are we willing to be placed in your hands, to allow you to trim, mould and reshape us?

Are we willing to trust in your love; trust that you know not only what is best for us, but how to get us there?

Are we willing to be whatever shape you form us into? Maybe something beautiful that everyone will admire and will be cherished; maybe something seemingly ordinary that nobody appears to value very highly at all.

Are we willing to be refined in the fire of your kiln to make us stronger?

Heavenly father, as we approach this time of Pentecost, as we remember the transforming gift of your Holy Spirit on our lives, may we give ourselves again to you, as clay to be worked by the potter’s hands.

Amen

Philip Clarke