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jars of clay
it has been a long, cold night. Sometimes, in the hours that stretch between dusk and dawn, I allow myself to imagine what the day ahead holds – I imagine a wondrous day.
then it comes - the new day greets me with rays of light that stream thru the dusty window, chasing the cold away. Dew glistens on the corner cobwebs in that twilight moment before full day break. It won’t be long now, the Master will soon turn His attention to our little shed. Until then, I wait on the shelf.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been on this shelf; waiting, flanked by others like me. we are a pretty ordinary crew; there’s nothing here that would catch your eye or cause a double-take. We sort of blend in with these familiar surroundings – it is comfortable here in the shed; comfortable, but not very exciting or fulfilling. We wait to hear the stir of our Master; the call of His voice.
Faint footsteps grow louder and the silence of this safe, little world is scattered as the door swings open. “Good Morning, good morning!” booms His voice. He sounds excited. “We have work to do! So much to be done!”. As much as I like my little perch on the shelf, His voice is irresistible. When I hear His call, really hear it, I long to be chosen. Soft footsteps rustle the dusty floor as He inspects His shelves. “So much to do, so much to do.”
He looks my way – “Ah, yes. This will do perfectly.” As He lifts me from the shelf, I’m caught by how much safer it feels to be in His hands than to remain at rest. I guess I’ve been on that shelf a while; He chuckles as He brushes the dust away. Through the door and out into the full sunshine we go. It’s bright, I have to squint a bit until my eyes adjust – too long in that shed.
What does He have in mind? It doesn’t really matter because today, today I’m a part of whatever He’s up to. Around the corner and down the path, sunlight warming me, anticipation rising. We stop, He places me gently on the ground and I hear the pump handle squeak. A moment later, water is gushing all around me. As He continues, I feel the water filling me up – almost full – but He doesn’t stop. Overflowing, the water cleans me from the inside out. rest and dust and emptiness are washed away.
Back into the safety of His hands, down the path a bit farther and He slowly tips me to release the water. There is nothing like the feeling of being what my Master needs.
This is the life of an earthen vessel. To be nothing more or less than what I was made to be. To be available when the Master calls. To be filled and emptied, filled and emptied. On my own, I take up space and collect dust. I cannot pick myself up off of the shelf or walk myself from the shed to the well. I cannot fill myself or pour myself out. I am useful only when I submit to His desire.
sometimes i imagine a wondrous day.... and sometimes i recognize His call and LIVE a wondrous day!
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