But now, O LORD, You are our Father,When one pictures clay on the potter's wheel, we tend to think of this gooey mass of discolored gunk. Unformed, but consistent in substance, and ready to be shaped by the master. However, I've come to think that we may not fit that image so well.
We are the clay, and You our potter;
And all of us are the work of Your hand.
What if, instead of being some uniform goo, we're really each a glop of different density materials, like some kind of batter that hasn't been stirred enough to become smooth throughout? We can still be worked, but there are parts of us that need more water to thin properly; or have to be picked out and thrown away before we can reach our final, truly shapeable form? And since we do have free will, we have to assent to the removal of those bits before God can truly make us what He wants us to be.
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