Our first winter in a RV park in the States made me realize not only was I staying in a foreign country, I had walked onto a foreign planet. It was a land of leisure like I had never seen before. There were two pools, rose gardens, dance activities, craft activities, choirs, sports activities of all kinds, card games and just plain old coffee klatches if you wanted that. It was dream come true…or so it seemed.
It paled after the first year and I found myself spending more time at the little library and less at the club house. But one thing I did take an interest in was the pottery shop. They had a lot of “green ware” to choose from…some experts did make their own stuff, but I was given an ugly frog to paint but somehow the eyes looked out at me with such a stare I could hardly pick it up. Finally someone else painted the eyes for me. It sits on the kitchen table now and its stare no longer intimidates me.
The facility had a small kiln. I knew nothing about the kiln but realized that at some point things did go into this oven and were baked.
A recent TV program showed a potter, turning a piece of clay into something beautiful.
I was especially drawn to the firing of the clay pot.
I can understand the analogy of a pot being formed into a useful object much as we are by God but I forgot it also has to be fired in a very hot oven.
I think we are shaped by life… my parents started the procedure but then things changed.
Other influences started forming me…my first job, my engagement and marriage, my motherhood, my travels. And this was all part of God’s plan. He knew what the final product was to be. God used all these things and people to mould me into what he wanted.
Clay needs a lot of water to be molded and similarly life seems to need a lot of tears and a few years to shape you into who you will become.
The potter on the TV program spoke of the clay jars sitting inside the kiln, alone, being torched with heat. There are certainly instances in all our lives when we feel we have sat alone in the fire…loss of spouse, child, a job, a home. We felt as if God has completely forgotten us. But the potter on TV explained that he, (much like God), kept a very careful eye on the pots in the kiln, ever watchful that things would turn out okay.
For several years I have sat in the kiln of widowhood. I think I now better understand why God put me there. I have learned a great deal. He has opened doors and windows in my life and filled up some of the empty spaces. I am not sure of the future but I am convinced that He still has work for me to do and will shape me as he sees fit. I’m not a finished product yet.
