My Pot of Gold

The Potter's Hand (song).
Jars of Clay (Christian band).
God Loves Cracked Pots (book title).

Heard those terms? Lots of different things come to mind, but nothing so striking to me as watching my son, Zachary, painstakingly glue a little 30 cent clay pot back together. Why did he do this? I don’t know.

Everything has been breaking around here lately. We buried our computer. Our camera died. A boom box went AWOL. The DVD player crossed over. The printer is on its last leg. Joe was really hoping one of our children would be the naturally tinkering sort, but has been disappointed. Here we have all these dead electronics hanging about the house, and no one wants to open them up and go exploring. Oh well.

However, in recent days we have discovered that Zach (who we expected might be the one to dismantle everything) is a fixer. He doesn’t want to understand the inner workings of electronics but he visualizes whole things. He longs to pick up the pieces and mend.

This little pot had been sitting on a ledge of the deck and had fallen quite a ways. Yet, he had vision and purpose. He would make it as whole as possible. I can’t tell you the excitement when he went digging under the deck area and found the remaining pieces. Jubilation! It wouldn’t just be partly fixed. It would be complete.

For days he had his little project on the counter. He found good old Aleene’s Tacky Glue (which, if you don’t know it, is the best glue in the world!) and used up a bunch of tape. He planned out his project figuring what had to be put together first before the whole might come together. It was so broken that just taping and gluing wouldn’t have worked. A few pieces at a time bore him much fruit. Joe and I stood in awe of his determination and patience. He gently and carefully assembled his pot. Watching him was beautiful.

I guess Zach’s experience with the pot begs the question. Wasn’t he a lot like GOD? I can’t help but to think that there are all these pieces scattered in my life. I want to put them all together, but God stands back and lays out His plans. He gently and carefully mends things, a few complimentary things at a time. He comes back day after day while my parts are all laid on the counter, ready to see if the old parts are stable and if I am ready for the next step. I’m eager to just throw it away. Or just shove things together leaving holes. Not God. He goes digging for the missing parts so that I will be as whole as possible. God is so patient. I don’t deserve that kind of attention. Kinda like our little 30 cent pot. It’s pretty worthless, but Zach made it so beautiful. I love it. I love that pot. And I am so glad that God loves me.