The Potter

"Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand." Jeremiah 18:6

I have struggled over the years with my faults. Accepting myself for who, what, and how I am. I can list many "flaws," too many to even begin to start laying out. I have been frustrated with my emotional weaknessess, discouraged by my physical imperfections, and embarrased by my social shortcomings. I have often wished to be more. More beautiful, more intelligent, more graceful, more cheerful, more intentional, more likeable. If I allow myself to be, I will inevitably be my own worst critic. I will wish that my flaws would just melt away, and that I could be more "ideal." I have even found myself weeping over what I see as an impossible fault. But God doesn't see it that way. He doesn't ever shed a tear about any aspect of who I am. He doesn't look at me with disappointment or discouragement over what He made me to be.

God made me this way. He put dimples in the surface of my heart. He put ridges in the contour of my emotions, gave shape to the intricacies of my unique personality. He built my body, bones, flesh, and all, exactly how He intended. He is the Potter, and He had a unique, specific purpose in mind when He shaped me. He knew exactly what my life would hold, how it may be a reservoir of hope, a vessel of courage, a basin of belief to the world around me. He knows every aspect of my life, even the ones I label "flawed" or "imperfect" or "irregular." But He doesn't agree. His hand shaped each of those places in my life, and He purposefully designed each and every one. I am starting to get the feeling that He is heartbroken when He hears me discounting and despairing over my imperfections. That He hopes I can someday see the amazing purpose that He had in mind when He uniquely and fearfully made ME. me. I get so excited at that possibility.