Understanding the Process When Life Doesn’t Look Like You Expected
When God created us, He had a purpose in mind.
I think about an artist creating a piece of art. An artist is usually inspired by something, and before the first brushstroke or pencil line is made, there is often a plan—a design and a purpose.
Sometimes the purpose is simply to add beauty. Sometimes it’s functional: a bowl to hold something, a cup from which to drink, a vessel to hold flowers, or a lamp to carry light.
God uses the imagery of a potter and clay to describe our relationship with Him:
“Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.”
— Isaiah 64:8 (NIV)
God formed us in His image:
“Then God said, ‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness…’”
— Genesis 1:26 (NIV)
And Scripture tells us that God has plans for us:
“For I know the plans I have for you…”
— Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
Think about a potter sitting down at the wheel with a lump of clay.
Straight out of the package, the clay doesn’t have much aesthetic form. It’s soft and pliable, and because it is soft, the potter can shape and mold it.
But before the potter begins, there is already a plan, a design, and a purpose in mind.
The clay is placed on the wheel and the process begins.
It is slapped down onto the wheel and pounded. It is kneaded, much like bread dough, to get the air out. The potter works the clay for a few minutes, and as the clay is kneaded, it becomes warm and softer.
Then the clay is placed back on the wheel.
The wheel begins to turn.
The potter wraps his hands around the lump of clay and begins to give it form.
Sometimes the clay begins to dry from the friction of the potter’s hands. So the potter wets his hands and adds water to the clay, continuing to shape and form it.
Then comes the pressure.
The potter applies pressure from the top, opening up the center and hollowing out the inside. Pressure from certain points on the outside creates grooves and curves, giving the piece its shape and character.
The potter forms the lip and smooths the edges. He gives the piece one final spin, checking it and looking it over.
The wheel stops.
The potter takes a piece of string, slides it underneath the newly formed pot, and lifts it from the wheel.
The pot is taken to a shelf with other pieces to dry.
And now…nothing seems to be happening.
The clay has already been through a lot—pounding, kneading, spinning, pressure from all sides, pressure from the top, being hollowed out and shaped.
Now it simply rests.
Days pass.
Other pieces come and go, but this one remains on the shelf, waiting until the potter is ready.
Then the potter takes it down.
It is dry.
It is ready for the kiln.
The temperature inside a kiln can reach more than 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit, and the pot may remain there for hours. The firing process is intense, but when it is complete and everything has cooled, the potter takes the piece out and prepares it for its intended use.
And I can’t help but think about how it is with us.
How many times have we felt like that lump of clay?
Pounded.
Pressed.
Shaped.
Emptied.
Stretched.
Waiting.
Maybe you’ve been in a season where it feels like God is doing something in your life, but you don’t understand what He’s doing.
Maybe you’ve experienced pressure from every direction.
Maybe you’ve felt like you’ve been emptied out.
Or maybe you’re in that place where nothing seems to be happening at all.
You’re just waiting.
But the clay doesn’t know what the potter is making.
The potter does.
God sees what we cannot see.
And maybe that’s where Romans 8:28 begins to take on a little more meaning:
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him…”
Not everything that happens to us looks or feels good.
But God can work through all things.
The clay has no idea what it will become.
It only knows what it’s experiencing right now.
And sometimes, I think we’re the same way.
So pause for a moment and think about your own brokenness.
Where has it brought you?
How have you healed?
Maybe you haven’t healed yet.
Maybe you’re still in the process.
There is hope.
And there is more to this story—because there is more to our brokenness than we may realize.
Stay tuned for Part 2.
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