In the Master's hands

Caroyln Rusch wrote, "Just as every quilt has a unique pattern, so too our lives have a pattern uniquely ours. Each piece in our quilt represents a challenge we’ve had, a blessing received, a truth learned, a talent nurtured, or an experience that has helped shape us into... the person we are today—& the person we can become. Some quilts are orderly & have a precise pattern; others are crazy quilts with oddly shaped pieces & mismatched."

I think my life is the crazy, right-brained quilt. Nothing quite fits together perfectly, but somehow it makes up the tapestry that is my life. There are many things I have pondered in the last little while like: starting another career, school, a PhD, boys, church, etc.

Only God knows what my ending quilt will look like, and I trust it into his hands. This week I have allowed something of small eternal significance bother me and keep me from the things I needed to do. I finally went where I knew I should have gone in the first place: the temple. That is my place of refuge from the world and it is there that I feel at peace with myself.

There is something about simply walking through the doors. I feel a change in spirit and in my own countenance. Suddenly, the weight of the world is gone and the issues that plague me retreat. In the temple is where I feel my Saviors love the most. In the temple is where I feel close to heaven but for a small moment.

I left with the feeling that if my closure comes, it comes. If not, life will still go on and I must chose if I will go on living or stay stagnate where Satan would like me to be. There is too much to be done with such a small amount of time for me to wallow in self-pitty and they "what could have been's."

Tomorrow will be the first square in a new part of my tapestry. I must admit I am nervous. In the same breath, I have to remember that this is where God placed me and he will make me equal to the task so long as I keep my trust in him. He is the matter potter, the all-knowledgeable God of this universe. He knows how to help me grow and become a potter not only of clay, but of the lives of the students who walk through my door and myself.

I am amazed sitting at the potter's wheel and feeling earth and water slip through my hands. There is something soothing about mastering a piece of clay with patience and forming it into a work of art. Though there is sometimes grit from the sand, the organic nature of the creation is awe-inspiring. Just as clay has an elastic memory, our spirits have a memory little by little of who we once were.

I think of how excited I get when I finish a piece of pottery. How God must feel as we are shaped and molded into the people he knows we are. We go through many transformations and firings before the final product is complete. I submit I will always me moldable, and perhaps one day leather hard for continued refinement.