The Fingerprints of God

But now, O Lord, You are our Father,
We are the clay, and You our potter;
And all of us are the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8

Have you ever seen the mess in a potter's room? The wet and dried clay spattered across the floor, the walls, the potter - if not rent the movie "Ghost." It doesn't seem possible for a potter to place the clay on the wheel and form anything beautiful or useful, or beautifully useful without being wholly focused and into the project.

If the clay becomes unbalanced, too much clay in one area or another, the wheel begins to shake and inevitably the potter has to break it down and start over. On the other hand, when the clay is easy to work with and the potter is able to keep it balanced it becomes possible to create something that is both functional and a work of art.

The prophet Isaiah calls us clay - how easy are you to work with? Lately it seems that I've been trying to make myself into what I think I should be. The only problem with clay trying to be the potter is that the position, the perspective, and the source of directed power is all wrong.

Woe to the one who quarrels with his Maker -
An earthenware vessel among the vessls of the earth!
Will the clay say to the potter,"What are you doing?"
Or the thing you are making say,"He has no hands?" Isaiah 45:9

In spite of my own pride and my own inadequacy, I find myself being broken down, reduced to that basic lump of clay. When the potter first begins to work the clay, depending 0n how it has been prepared it can be stiff and difficult to work with. But, after adding a little water, after beating the clay and massaging the clay, it becomes pliable and soft enough to work with - yet it retains enough "stuff" to hold the desired shape.

I find myself wanting to argue with God, saying to Him and to myself - God what on earth are you doing to me? Why did you let me do that to myself? Why did you let me make that bad decision. I scream silently to the heaven's "Why?" Yet, no answer thunder's forth - not even a whisper.

My mind seethes with anger to the point of rage desirous of answers, meaning, hope, and salvation from circumstance. I even find myself wanting to accuse God of not caring, of abandoning His greater purpose in me. Which is really no more than suggesting that He has "no hands" just like Isaiah warns in chapter 45 and verse 9. I know God has a design for me, I just wish that He would let me in on the secret. Don't you?

How do I as a poor, misshapen lump of clay stop trying to control the wheel that is not under my control in the first place?

How do I become soft and pliable, easy to work with, and not stiff and unyielding of heart?

How do I pause and recognize the fingerprints of God in the details of life, both large and small?

You're asking me? I'm just another piece of clay like you! They (those poetic and prosaic authors) suggest that life is a journey, life is a process, life is the culimination of your choices... Who are the ubiquitous "they?" More pieces of clay? We're all whirling away on a potter's wheel of our own. Where does that leave us - besides dizzy, dazed, and confused?

What about disaster, bloodshed, "pointless" death that happens in the thousands of daily tragedies the world over?

I know this - that if we're all "the work of His hand" and we are spinning away on our own potter's wheel - then I submit to you that it is impossible to have any perspective on the insane spinning of life without seeing each piece of clay through the eye's of the Potter.

When life raises up like an ocean wave and swallows you whole, you need to struggle against the rip tide of hopelessness and despair. You need to strive to break the surface and return to shore. When you find your feet and touch the stand, you will find the Potter holding you close. He's ready to make something amazing with you from the mess you've made.

You know what you'll find? You'll find that He never dropped you. He didn't throw you away. He just added some water to make you a little easier to work with. The cross shows us just how involved He is, He's covered with all of the bits and pieces of our lives that we couldn't handle.

Now look at yourself - see your past with new eyes. Can you see how He's touched you, guided you, shaped you, broken you down, made you whole, made you new, made you useful to His purpose and His end?

I pray that God will open your eyes and that in the midst of whatever you may find, you will find His fingerprints already there. After all, they've always been all over your life - we just don't normally slow down enough, get quiet enough, step softly enough to know it. Know it, not just intellectually, but know it spiritually, experientially, emotionally - to feel it in the deepest most secret fibre of your being.

I know that's what I want - will you pray for me?

John 10:10