i'm clay.

Scripture can take on a new meaning when it's really hitting home, when you feel it through your skin, when you really begin to own it because you experience it.


Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay; you are the potter. We are all the work of your hand. (Isaiah 64:8)

I can count on five separate hands plus a few how many times I've heard this verse throughout my life. I always knew it to be true but never really, really got it.

Clay. It's dirty. It has rough spots. It's stubborn and hard to shape. It takes time to form, to get it just right. It can slip right through your fingertips if it's too wet.. too much of one thing.

A potter has full control of that clay. He is it's maker. He can do whatever the heck he wants with it. He can twist it. He can smash it. He can smoothen it. He can stretch it. He can rip it to pieces. He can hold it tight. He can let it get completely dry. He can water it again.

I am that clay, and God is that he. He is the potter.