Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same mass (lump) one vessel for beauty and distinction and honorable use, and another for menial or ignoble and dishonorable use? (Romans 9:21 AMPL)
The correct response to this question is yes, of course, the potter (in this context, God) has this right. But if you’re like me, you might struggle with accepting it. If I have given God the right to my life, am I willing to be a Ming vase with all its beauty and value? A cooking vessel that takes a lot of heat? Or a serviceable, smelly chamber pot?
And so, I ponder what kind of pottery He created me to be. I think He’s chosen me to be a water vessel—a practical, no frills, serviceable carrier of Living Water to those who are thirsty. Sometimes it’s a heavy load to bear—until I realize I’m not the one who’s supposed to transport it. My shape and size are created for the task He’s given me. All I need to do is be faithful. Daily. Hourly. And if He chooses to form my sister into a Ming vase or my friend into a chamber pot, that is His business. He knows what every person should be—all for His glory and purpose.
What kind of vessel do you think He made you? Are you at peace with His choice?
I’m too busy. Important details are slipping through my fingers. I’m worried over finances (first the washing machine died, then the compressor on the upstairs air conditioning unit quit, and now the car needs a new muffler). I’m worried over my daughters’ needs, over my health, sleep, and eating habits, over other people’s health, over ministry needs.
I haven’t been at peace for a while. When circumstances go awry or when things spin out of control, is my response always a trigger from the past? Or can it be a new situation? It’s a tangled mess right now. Where to begin to lay it on the altar?
Sometimes it’s simply a choice. And today my choice it to hand God my worry.
My ship floats in a sea of God’s love and care, but in my ship dwell all my cares and concerns. When life comes at me one bundle at a time, I can deal with each in turn and move on. But when the bundles continue to compile, my stress elevates, and my ship sinks deeper into the water. There aren’t too many choices: throw some of the bundles overboard, climb to the top and enjoy the view, or sink with the ship. This could be akin to burnout, and I don’t want to go there.
This weekend was the last bundle to pile on top. Was it from God to test me or simply an opportunity to minister to one of God’s children?
My husband’s name is listed in the phone book under clergy, and we get periodic pleas for help from random strangers. One time I was able to pray with a lady for an hour. Usually, I refer them to the church office. This time it was Saturday, church office closed, when I got a call from Gerry, a 62-year-old homeless Christian widow who was stranded near us and afraid to get on the highway with her car leaking fluid. I invited her to spend the night. It broke my heart not to be able to help her more, but I couldn’t take on one more thing. If I’m feeling this much stress, I cannot even begin to fathom what she goes through on a daily basis to survive.
Was I foolish to take her in? Was she merely working the system to get what she wants? I gave her what I could—a bed and meals, laundry, a hot shower, and a phone card. But I wanted to give her more. I wanted to pray with her intensively to heal a few hurts, but I don’t think she was ready for that yet. I listened, I didn’t judge her, I held her, and I prayed for her. What more did You want from me, Lord? She was a bundle I had to gently place overboard and trust her to God’s care.
Gerry told me a Catholic Father, responsible for his flock, went to bed each night praying, “God take care of Your sheep; I’m going to sleep.” That’s profound. God, take care of my friend Gerry. I need to take care of my family now.
When do you come to the place where you say no to someone’s plea for help? I have control over who I schedule to pray with. It’s a steady stream, usually not too much, but right now, it’s too much. With two graduations, a senior show, and a reception to prepare for, I feel swamped. I feel like climbing out of the boat and swimming in God’s love for a while. I need a spiritual bath.
Now I see barnacles of pride and sin and anger cemented to the bottom of my boat. I must chip them off, break the bonds that hold them in place, and let them float away.
Next day. My boat has suddenly sprung a leak. It appears that our house guest stole my credit card. I called to cancel the card and filed a police report. I feel sad for Gerry. I was taken advantage of. I gave her dollars I could ill afford to give her, and she stole from me. I could be angry, bitter, hateful, revengeful. Instead, I feel sorrow for her. Would I do the same were I in her shoes? Perhaps. Lord, take care of my friend Gerry. I believe she’s Your child. She believes You’re punishing her for her divorce.
That night. Shame-faced, I found my credit card in the pocket of my housecoat—right where I put it yesterday. Lord, help me. Were you protecting me from some future fraud through this incident? What’s going on here? What lesson are You trying to teach me? You’ve just restored my faith in human beings. God, forgive me. I falsely accused an innocent person. Lord, please protect her from false arrest.
Why does money drive everything here on earth? A homeless person struggles for daily bread and survival next to the millionaire who lives in luxury. Money can mean survival or demise. Why do we hang onto it so tightly? Or let it go so easily? What happened to the trusting nature of my childhood? Have I seen too much now of how the other half lives? Is it because I don’t feel in control of what I do have? I’m living in a very stable condition now, but life is so uncertain. You can build a business for a lifetime and then lose it in one disaster. What exactly am I afraid of? What are my worries? How do I let go?
A 2025 Update. Shortly after this, we removed Scott’s title “Reverend” from our phone listing, and the calls stopped. Was that a good decision?
I don’t remember how I processed through this visual, but I realize now that the more bundles I carried, the deeper I sank into God’s love, and that’s not a bad thing. I may not have been in control of the bundles of life’s circumstances, but what didn’t belong and what made it worse was the weight of my worry and the unholy barnacles. I also learned through this incident that I cannot rescue everyone. I am not meant to do God’s job.
Donald Miller inBlue Like Jazz suggests that if we change our metaphor, we change our attitude. For example, he says we use war metaphors when we refer to cancer: we battle cancer; we fight cancer. What if we changed the metaphor?* Would our perspective change?
Miller says we use economics when we talk of relationships: we value people, invest in them, think of them as priceless, and relationships can be bankrupt. Love is not a commodity, but we use it like money. If somebody does something for us or offers us something, like gifts, time, or popularity, we feel they have value, we feel they are worth something to us. We withhold affirmation from the people who do not agree with us, but we lavishly finance the ones who do.
I accused someone yesterday of having an issue with economics. She didn’t want to fellowship with someone because she felt the person was beneath her. Before I put on my judge’s hat, however, I realize that perhaps I, too, am guilty. What are my perceptions and values? It’s almost the reverse for me. I’ll fellowship with anyone “below” me but feel uncomfortable with those “above.” Isn’t it interesting our metaphor for viewing someone with or without money as “above” or “below” us? I need a new metaphor.
And it’s not just wealth. How about intelligence? Talents? Usefulness in society? I think of Princess Diana and Mother Theresa dying at the same time. Which person was worshipped, caught the most media attention? What about the rich man and Lazarus? Stark contrasts in wealth and poverty. Yet, which were the richer?
What other metaphors do I need to rethink?
*A 2025 Update. I just watched the movie The Healer, in which a fun and feisty girl with cancer calls her disease her “marshmallow,” thus removing all the negativity associated with that scary word.
Moses murdered an Egyptian. After the deed, he felt fear—fear of being found out. I wonder how he felt when the words, “Thou shalt not kill” appeared on the tablets of stone. Did he feel guilt? Remorse?
Sometimes I’m more concerned about being discovered than repenting of my sin. Words I’ve said in anger behind someone’s back leave me unrepentant till I’m found out by the one I slandered. Shame at my misdeed leads me to repentance.
I wonder if God’s original plan was for Moses to release the Israelites from bondage while he was still serving in Pharoah’s court. Perhaps the murder incident delayed God’s plan while He worked on Moses’ character.
God’s plan cannot be thwarted by man’s plan, but man can sure mess up God’s best or original plan! God lets us go our way until we see the error of our ways, and then He creatively works “all things for good.”
I wonder what difference it would make to our beliefs if we could see all the choices and various paths we could take in life. Would we believe sooner? Be more cautious of our words? Choose any more wisely? Every choice we make in life—every single step, word, or deed impacts us, the world, and others forever.
For example, if on Tuesday at 9 a.m. I choose to go to the grocery store, and I see a child being verbally abused by his mother, my simple smile could be the moment that freezes kindness and encouragement into that child’s life. And forty years later, God may bring that memory back to him and give him a safe place in his mind to start the healing process. Sound far-fetched? I don’t think so. If God ordained this event from the foundation of the world, and He is the One who prompts me to get groceries at 9 a.m. instead of at 10 a.m., then His plan is fulfilled.
AI-generated
But what if Satan sends a phone call that delays me by two minutes, and I miss this little encounter? Is God’s plan thwarted? I don’t think so. Perhaps He’ll send another person. Perhaps He’ll delay the mother too. Check. Checkmate. God wins!
Another checkmate example. When Moses argues with God that he’s incapable of doing what God asks, Moses gets his way—he doesn’t have to speak before Pharoah. But God gets His way when He chooses an alternate spokesperson: his brother Aaron.
Has my doubt or denial or stubbornness ever thwarted God’s best for me? Yes. But He still gets His will accomplished even though I may lose out on the best plan for me. Why is man’s heart so unbelieving? I piously think, given the circumstances, I would have been a Joshua or a Caleb or a Joseph or a Mary or an Esther. But in reality, I’m probably more like Moses.
I have a one-track mind that struggles to manage multiple, simultaneous crises. At one time I aspired to become a medical doctor until I realized I didn’t have the multi-tasking skills needed for that profession. The positive side to this super-power is I can focus on a task to completion. Unfortunately, I get frustrated at interruptions, finding it hard to pull my mind away from the zone.
As I’m concentrating on a task, I’m not thinking about God. When I’m worshiping God, I find it distracting to be around people. And while I’m with people, I can’t center on my inner needs. How do I balance these areas of focus and release my feelings of worry and guilt that I’m “less than”?
So here’s my visual: With my heart in the middle, my feet perform a task, my arms reach out to minister, and my head looks up to God. When I look within, I focus on self—adjusting and changing, making goals, and removing triggers. When I look outward, I focus on relationships and the needs of others.
So, in my visual, it’s okay to be seated (feet still, no task) while I reach out to minister to others. The body is still there, whether my mind is focusing on it or not. When I watch my feet, my senses can still be alert, aware of changes in the environment that will warn me of danger. The parts are all inter-related, still in existence even if my eyes are focusing on one part only. The rest of me doesn’t go away.
So how do I find balance? Should I tithe my time? (That would mean focusing solely on God 2.4 hours in a 24-hour period or 1.6 hours if I only count waking hours). How much time should I allot to self-examination? (As much as necessary, I think, to become emotionally healthy.) If my arms are always engaged in ministry, my feet (tasks) don’t get done. If my head always faces the sky, my feet will trip. Each part must take turns. The trick is to maintain an equilibrium between the parts.
But I must not become too compartmentalized. I can focus on each in rapid succession. Micro-seconds of looking up while engaging my hands or feet will give me orientation. Checking my attitude while ministering to others is necessary. I might not be able to stop for self-care in the moment, but I certainly can take note of it and deal with it at my first opportunity.
A 2025 Update. Over time, I worked through the anger I felt at my tasks being interrupted. I find I can more quickly redirect my attention to others or return to the zone and refocus on my task without anxiety or shame. Being one-track-minded is not a character flaw.
In the news this week: the head of a national Christian organization falls from grace after preaching about moral failure. I’ve been thinking about how preachers (okay, I’ll make it personal—how I) tend to protest too much or preach the loudest about the very thing I struggle with.
This reminds me of the time Scott and I were staying at a hotel in North Carolina when the fire alarm screamed in the middle of the night. Scott took his time getting out the door. He wanted to get dressed first, go to the bathroom, and find his wallet. He said he saw no smoke and felt no heat, so he wasn’t worried.
I, on the other hand, panicked and urged him to flee immediately. I had visions of us perishing in the fire together if I waited for him, thus leaving our children to fend for themselves as orphans. It was a double-bind: follow my husband’s lead and die together or follow my instincts and run? My choice was to leave without him and let him come at his leisure. But as I descended the third flight of stairs, guilt set in that I had abandoned him, and I slowed my pace. Why wasn’t he catching up to me? Did he have a heart attack? Did his bad knees give way? Did he need my assistance?
What I didn’t know was that we had each chosen a different stairway to descend. In the end, we both got to safety—even though there was no danger from a fire. It was a false alarm.
If I had to do it over again, I think I’d wait for Scott. In fact, the next time it happened, this time in Chattanooga, we took our time and went down together (yup, another false alarm).
So how does this story relate to the fallen preacher? We all need transparency and accountability in our struggles. We’re safer when we do life together.
A 2025 Update. As I read back over this entry, I admit I’m not sure about my conclusion in this double bind. Was I really safer waiting for Scott? I don’t know, but I do know it felt less stressful to stay together.
Galatians 5:19-21 lists “acts of the flesh” as “immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, disputes, dissensions, factions, envying, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these.”
I’m not too worried about drunkenness, orgies, sorcery, and idolatry. But what of selfishness? Or outbursts of anger? Or envy? Are we not all guilty of these at some point?
This is more than a list. It’s an admonition for self-examination. And so my prayer today, Lord, is for You to reveal and expose any area in my life that does not exhibit a fruit of the Spirit.
Later. That’s the quickest answer to prayer I’ve ever had! Yesterday was an emotionally draining day. It will forever be known in my mind as “Meltdown Day.”
Probably ten years ago, I got ticked off with a friend over an issue that affected me. She promised to take care of it, but she never did. Year after year, I stewed inside, waiting for her to fulfill her promise. Up to now, she’d always put up a brick wall when I brought up the subject.
Well, yesterday, the subject came up again, and I was surprised when she said she’d handle it. Now, it appeared that a little door had opened in her wall, and it felt safe to walk through it.
Wrong. She got triggered and slammed that door in my face. The why is her story, her issue. But my response was so out of character and out of line that I knew it tapped into something deep inside. I had been working through a grief issue just before this incident, and it was not finished yet. This seemed to blow it wide open.
I grabbed some Kleenex, hopped onto my bicycle, and rode to our local playground. I cried for over an hour before I started to process my anger, envy, and grief. It took another couple hours to talk it out with my friend.
Deep wounds take a long time to heal and release, I think. But why are they there in the first place? Perhaps because of our own sin. Perhaps because of other people’s sin against us. Or maybe it’s just lies we believe. Guilty. I raise my hand. Guilty.
I have been struggling, fighting, working at getting some uninterrupted quiet time first thing in the morning. Not happening. This time is so precious to me, and when I have to give it up for whatever reason, it leaves me irritated. Why? What’s going on here, Lord? I know spiritual warfare is part of it.
I woke this morning with this childhood song in my heart: Jesus is the joy of living. But it doesn’t feel true today.
When, on this earth, will I quit struggling to keep Jesus as my joy? I get annoyed, upset, angry, peeved, frustrated, ticked off at so many stupid little things. I’m tired of it! Why can’t I just have a “poof pill”? POOF! And the anger is gone. Actually, giving up anger is the only way to make this happen, but it’s a lot of work getting to that place of peace. I’m a slow learner.
I know irritations in life are inescapable, but how I respond to them is up to me. Lord, give me peace.
A 2025 Update. I am in a different season of my life now and have more control over my schedule. Finding alone time is no longer an issue. Maybe that’s why my heart easily agrees that Jesus is the joy of living.
Simplicity or minimalism is better than clutter. Because it’s easier to clean around. Because I spend more time on what’s really important in life. Because it streamlines my work.
Things are to be used. If you’re not using them, why keep them?
We get emotionally attached to things. Childhood bonds to things may be the strongest. (e.g. my Funny Monkey). What’s important to me may not be important to you because we don’t have the same bonds.
It’s easy for me to throw away what I’m not attached to.
Things are temporal, of the earth. They bind us, tie us up, hang us—unless we can let them go.
There can be too much of a good thing. There can also be too little.
I can think of no possession I have that I wouldn’t be willing to part with—except my journals, because they’re irreplaceable. But if having them gets in the way of my love for God and service to Him, then I’d gladly give them up. Even pictures, as precious and irreplaceable as they may be, what’s in the heart is what counts in life. I’d prefer to not be tested in this, though. But God knows my heart.
“Funny Monkey” still has my name tag on it from boarding school.
A 2025 Update. I’ll never get my husband to read The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning – How to Free Yourself and Your Family from a Lifetime of Clutter by Margareta Magnusson. Living with a clutter-bug who feels more secure with his things crowded around him, I laughed when I saw this sign at the paint store. Apparently, my Swedish roots are showing.
“Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow Me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:27).
What does following mean exactly?
It’s walking behind Someone on a footpath. When you come to a fork in the road—a crisis like death or illness or disaster—you continue to stay behind the Leader, not stray off the path or choose another fork. It’s trusting that the One you follow knows the way through the wilderness.
John 12:26 says, “If any of you wants to serve Me, then follow Me.”
What does it mean to serve? Is that the same as following?
When Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, He said, “What I’ve done, you do.” Did He mean that we should have foot-washing ceremonies? I serve my family by cooking for them, cleaning the house, running the household. But it’s more than that. Serving others is a heart attitude.
When I serve others, I’m following Jesus. When I follow Him, I will serve others.
A 2024 Update. When I first began meeting with clients for inner healing prayer, I was appalled to learn that some of them believed that serving others meant self-abasement, self-neglect, or laying themselves down as a rug to be trampled. But lying on the pathway renders them incapable of following the Leader. Fortunately, God is patient. He will allow us to stay there until we cry out to Him for help. Once we can stand, we can follow Him.
In the Pursuit of Peace 