Jeremiah 18:1-4  (NIV)  

This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord:   “Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.”  So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him. 

Clay

 The idea of God being able to reshape a "marred" lump of clay into something else-something still functional- gives me great encouragement.  Circumstances that seem hopeless to the human eye can be transformed by our Heavenly Father into unexpected blessing.  It's not that He always takes away our pain, but that He uses it somehow to mold us into who He wants us to be.   Our own choices and the choices of those around us can make us feel damaged beyond repair.  Because we are human and He is God, we can never really understand how God's sovereignty and our free will work together, but I do know this:  He can take any situation, no matter how bleak, and turn it into something beautiful.                                                           ©2014Janet Carol Davis                                                                    

Earthenware

Vessel on the wheel

As the potter molds the clay,

With His gentle hands.

Lovingly He shapes,

Using life to smooth the sides,

With sharp tools He bands.

Grooves form in the rim-

My designer works in ways

I don't understand.

But my maker knows

How, with these embellishments,

He fulfills His plans.

 ©2011Janet Carol Davis

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The Door And The Ivy

 In front of the old house, yellow flowers, perfectly placed flowerpots, and big leafy plants adorned the yard.  As beautiful as the garden area was, it seemed to direct one's gaze toward the friendly porch, complete with swing and rocking chairs.  The passerby could surely hear the home beckon loudly to them,  "Come on in!
You're invited!"

But just around the corner, a side door, with some lovely green ivy growing up beside it made me stop.  The door and the ivy seemed to be good friends.  Their message was quieter than that of the porch. 

"Come look at my beauty", the ivy whispered.  "See how I reach for the roof?  I've been here a while, next to this door."  The richness of the green and the way the leaves snuggled up to the door as if the ivy were holding on to a dear companion, made me smile.  The door spoke next.  "It's quiet here, on the side of the house, but I never feel alone.   We've been together now for quite some time, the ivy and I.  Without her, I would just be a plain white door, but with her, I have color."  The ivy responded,  "And out front I would blend in with all the other greenery, but here, next to the door, I am seen.  Together, we can be enjoyed by any who will walk this way."  It was clear that each made the other happy, and they were grateful for one another, which is of course, as it should be in any friendship.  I was thankful too, being one who was privileged to enjoy their presence.  The front of a house can be beautiful indeed, as can a framed masterpiece, or a well-groomed garden.  But beauty is also found in unexpected places:  Down a rocky path, in words that flow from a broken heart, or sometimes in the simplicity of green ivy and a plain white door.

 ©2014Janet Davis Carroll



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