“….you will not be afraid of the terror by night or the arrow that flies by day…” Psalm 91:1-13
Arrows flying…at me… and I hear it clearly…”Go down to the Potter’s House.”
O Master Potter! What dismay! What sorrow! What verses of lament come up out of me! These mother wounds, so unexpected, so hurtful, have me falling down; face on the ground, hands lifted high to God for help!
Have you, who have walked this road before me, some secret to guard your heart?
My mind tumbles about through dark corridors trying to find a hand-hold or even a firm place to put my foot.
I am a mother. I am a grandmother. But I was a daughter first and this is at the root of who I am. I struggle to comprehend this place. I look through lenses that are rose-colored with gilt frames, yet it does me no good in this foreign land of continual assault by one that I trust and love. The battering of my soul has left me numb and empty-headed.
Perhaps this is the place where God can magnify Himself; a place where His sweet Presence can flow and increase. Perchance, I am being built rather than being torn apart. Maybe I can be bent down to the ground in this great storm and yet be lifted high as I crouch low.
My eyes and ears cannot perceive this now, but my spirit says, “Yes, Lord. Purify me. It hurts, but I want the Best of You. I want Your ways more than I want my own.”
I am lost at my desk before a white canvas. I am sitting still before an empty wheel.
No beauty comes forth today when I am just thinking about going down to the Potter’s House. I have to put feet to this thought. I must get up out of my tears and GO. I must humbly lay before Him with what I have, so very little right now. This is all I have, Lord. It’s not much.
“Oh but daughter, it is an enormous amount. And it is enough.”
“We’ve only seven loaves of bread and a few small fish.” Jesus told them to sit down. He took the loaves and the fish and GAVE THANKS and gave them to the disciples and in turn to the people. The crowd of 4000 ate and were satisfied. Afterwards they gathered up seven baskets of leftovers.” -Matthew 15:32
Multiply this little that I have…And may the basket be overflowing…
