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. So His touch is tender and ever so gently He presses you and me. Over time, the once stubborn, wobbly, clay is centered and what was malformed begins to take shape.
While the clay resists, it works against its designer and against its own best interest. While we persist in our willfulness, in our rebellion or stubbornness, we work against our greater good. The truth is “no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for” we who love Him. We have barely an understanding of the few things we can affect. We have hardly any true understanding and yet, fist clenched, chin high, we demand that the Maker form us as we dictate.
At least this is my continual failing. I have my desires, wants, and perhaps even genuine needs my heart whispers in prayer at evening’s end. I have hopes and longings, dreams that will not leave me—even in the day. I have great ambition and want to be many things, many good things, some noble things. I want to be and do many things, but my reigning ambition is to be shaped into an instrument worthy of His name.
He loves me and the pressing of His hands is the expression of His love. It is the sign that He has not forgotten me. I may not know for what or into what I am being made but I rejoice to know—I am being made. Some things God speaks into being; others are shaped, made with His own hands. It is my good fortune to be made.
Jer. 29:11, 1Cor. 2:9, 2Cor. 1:22, 2Cor. 5:5, Eph. 1:13-14
Thanks so much Kasina. Glad to be helpful.
This is such a beautiful and profound confirmation for a conversation that I had with a dear sister/friend today. Thank the Lord that the Holy Spirit’s words through you are effectual whenever read. The words are “lasting”. The Lord continue to bless and use you.
This encourages me to keep on pressing forward. Our God is faithful.
Be blessed Hudson
Good my friend. If we know only the conviction we are lost. Grace is so sweet.
We struggle on. With our limp, but we struggle on. God bless.
Thanks so much. It is an honor to serve.
I love your writings. You express in words, what I feel in my heart. Thank you Hudson for sharing your remarkable gift of writing with us. God bless.
Every bits of this article talks about me.And i discover all i can do is to lay it all down in humility.As asking and also praying to god to help me lay it down… those things am clinging on to that is prolonging the master’s perfect work in me.please join me in prayer
sick and tired of struggling with Him…lord open my eyes that i can see… i want more of you and less n less of me.amen
This really spoke to me today. I just read over 2 Corinthians 12 starting with verse 7 where Paul talks about the thorn in his flesh. And he was reminded by the Lord that His grace was sufficient. I too am reminded by this today. Thanks.
So true. I’ve always read John 15:2 as an expression of this, at least in one sense. Being a gardener, I appreciate this is a literal way.
It does hurt. And you’re right about the reality that it’s because of God’s love for us that He does this. A college friend of mine used to encourage me with this anecdote:
Most people look at a lump of clay and see just that (unless it’s a rorschach test — just kidding, my joke). A sculptor sees what is “in” the lump of clay, and removes what doesn’t belong there, revealing the work of art hidden under what’s removed. The latter is comparable to how God works in us.
Having written some things, I do a similar process. Eliminating or leaving out words that don’t contribute to the final “picture” you’re painting. I’m sure you, Hudson, know this!