Between our yesterdays, what we were and what we are to become, between our failings and our perfection—is the place of being made. While I am certain that one day I will be who God has me to be I am hardly comfortable with His means of my perfecting. I am not at ease with the kneading, the pressing, and the cutting. I often wonder why He will not leave me alone, why He won’t leave me to be what I might become.Then as if shocked into consciousness I recall—He loves me.

He will not let me become just anything because He has plans for me, plans to prosper and not to harm. Instead of the hapless growth I conceive He prunes me for hope and for a future. Between the yesterdays and the tomorrows, drawing them both together into one unique whole—is the Father’s love, the Son’s sacrifice and the Spirit’s tending. Because He loves me, what I might become is simply not good enough.

Make no mistake; it is the resistance of the clay that prolongs the becoming. There is no lack within the artist for His hands are strong. Should He press just a little more—I would be crushed. More >