Pushing and shaping the clay into a centered position, requires all my body pressure.
Once centered, the clay may be slowly opened, then determining the shape and sensing the purpose of the vessel.
As the vessel readies and thins, fragility looms, with only the softest touch required for the final form to appear.
People often say to me You are so strong, I admire you. I am clay. I resist and push back on centering and shaping. Yes this is strength, but strength that must be out-wrestled by my potter.
Survival: choosing to wake each day, hope amidst fear and despair. I was broken and unrecognizable, yet the potter took a deep breath and patiently worked with me to shape me into a vessel again. Cracks are mended, yet visible, a sign that this vessel has survived.
You are strong… Yes, I AM strong, for good and bad.
And spectacularly, my God is stronger than any other, and has held me in the palms of his hands, protecting me as my pieces were spun on the wheel, creating a new intact vessel.
Praise be to God for strength and not giving up on this broken lump of clay…
© Copyright 2021 Donna G. All rights reserved. No portion of this work/blog may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.