My friend Amy and I are taking a pottery class together. For me, it’s a chance to get back into something I did in college. For her, it’s a mostly new adventure. Last night I had a super-preacher-dork moment realizing the lessons God was giving in the midst of working with clay. Here are a couple:
The clay has to start out where it is supposed to be. This is called centering. With a great deal of physical effort the potter makes sure the clay is centered on the wheel so that the creation process can begin. In the same way, we need to start our days (jobs/relationships/life) with intentional centering. We need to start anything with as much effort and purpose as we can muster. This is no easy feat. With all the distractions life can throw in our way, putting our full selves into anything can seem almost impossible. However, it is only when we are fully present and centered at what we are doing the formation of something special can begin.
How do we begin, then? It is different for each of us. My mornings start out with time with our dogs. In events where I feel like lots of energy will be used, my heart lifts up a prayer for guidance and calm. On days where difficulty is a given, I wear a bold lipstick. Yeah, it may seem silly, but it works for me. We each are responsible for finding those ways to put our hearts where they are supposed to be so that we can be who God needs us to be in the world. Now, there are those days where all our efforts aren’t enough. That brings me to lesson number two.
Know when to stop. When you are working the clay, there comes a point where it gets tired. Sometimes, we finish a work before the clay tires out. For beginners and those getting back into pottery, it is difficult to notice when the clay is done. If you keep working with it past that point, the clay will collapse. In our work with the clay, as your hands and eyes and body learn more, it is usually clear when the clay is tired. In life it takes experience as well to know when to stop. It takes the walls falling in on your pot-of-a-life to recognize all the signs that were there before but we couldn’t see. You and I must learn from those moments. We must teach ourselves when to stop, let go, and admit things about a situation.
Sometimes, the pot is perfect. We stop working the clay before it ever gets tired. As experience is gained, this happens more and more. Most of the time, though, with throwing pots and with life, the skill of noticing the little changes in the clay and seeing when to work a little more and when to stop is where we find ourselves. It takes the work of the Holy Spirit and our own open hearts to see how to live this lesson out. There have been times when it is obvious: a conversation takes a turn that is at best inappropriate or at worst outright sinful. More often than not it is more subtle. My failures at stopping at the right time are usually because I think if I work a little harder, everything will be alright. The reality is that my work alone is never going to make something better. It is listening to God’s Spirit and the cues of the “clay” that will move us forward into creating the Kingdom.
Thanks to Amy for being my partner in this adventure! Look soon for the next lesson. Chaos into creation. Oh, yeah, this clay thing is getting my God-thought (theology) juices flowing. (Oh, and Amy may have told me I need to write more!)
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