His Hands

I missed you yesterday. I plan for Wednesdays to be Worship Wednesdays. I got the idea from my bestie, Melissa Langford (follow her at her blog, The Langford Life) who plans to do the same. Here's what I had.

My blog is titled My Life on the Wheel which got me to thinking about actually being in the wheel and the ebbs and flows of it. And I got this great mental picture of God, the Creator of all things, actually putting His hands on me. And not just putting them there, but molding me. Let me paint it for you.

I see these masculine hands wrapped around this dark, grey clay. The clay is wet and shiny; the hands are wet. The clay is in between His fingers, on the fronts and backs of them, curving it's way through and down and up and over while the wheel spins. The clay is on the wheel, spinning, spinning, spinning. He adds water. He is molding me into something beautiful. From a hard, cold, grey lump of nothing. He is making me beautiful. Useful. Into something purposeful. The spinning is delightful and beautiful. And then I, the clay, bend in the wrong way, trying to do it myself, and I go haywire. The spinning becomes eradict, lopsided and ugly. Almost out of control, slinging the water, but He doesn't retract Himself from me. He fixes me. He bends me down onto myself. Pushing me down. Pushing me down. And He starts again. He adds water, always the water. Making sure I don't dry out and crack. He starts again. The spinning, the creation. The love. He molds me again, and again, and again, and each time I spin out of control, He pushes me back down, so He can mold me as He sees me. Loves me as He tends to me.

What am amazing, humbling thought, that God, the Creator, God the Almighty, the God of Isaac, and David, and Jacob, the God of all, ... would tend to me. Little old, messy me. Oh how He loves us.

I will forever be amazed by Him and His mercy.

Love, B