Perfect Pottery People
Perfect pottery is hard to find. Usually even the most well crafted piece has blemishes. However, God sees as his handiwork – pottery shaped by His hands.
A Handcrafted Piece of Pottery
“You made me like a handcrafted piece of pottery— and now are you going to smash me to pieces? Don’t you remember how beautifully you worked my clay?
Will you reduce me now to a mud pie?
Oh, that marvel of conception as you stirred together semen and ovum—
what a miracle of skin and bone, muscle and brain!
You gave me life itself, and incredible love.
You watched and guarded every breath I took.
(Job 10:8-12, MSG)
Your hands have formed me and made me. Would you turn around and destroy me?
Remember [earnestly], I beseech you, that you have fashioned me as clay [out of the same earth material, exquisitely and elaborately]. And will you bring me into dust again?
Have you not poured me out like milk and curdled me like cheese?
You have clothed me with skin and flesh and have knit me together with bones and sinews.
You have granted me life and favor, and your providence has preserved my spirit.
(Job 10:8-12, AMPC)
Sometimes it is a trying task, being Lord all that you ask;
But we choose to learn, accept; obey; for you are Potter, we are clay. (Brenda J Wood)
That’s why we can say with certainty that death is nothing at all.
Death is Nothing at All
(Poem by Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918)
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other; that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?
(1 Corinthians 15:55, AMPC)
Seriously can you think of a more perfect Valentines Day love story? Neither can I!
A motivational speaker and author, Brenda Wood is a true alphabet girl. She has experienced and written about abuse, bulimia, cancer, and the death of her spouse. Brenda’s faith and quirky sense of humour bring perspective to these heavy topics. Brenda, who prefers a warm fire and a good book to any outdoor activity, lives just north of Toronto, within hugging distance of all five of her wonderful grandchildren.
Brenda’s latest books include: The Pregnant Pause of Grief, The First Trimester of Widowhood; Gentle Humour with Jesus; God, Gluttony and You; and Meeting Myself, snippets from a binging and bulging mind.
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Images courtesy of:
Potter – Pexels
Cemetery – Joggie