clay covered hands

There are so many days between each post. Days that go unwritten because you feel like there is no story to tell. But there is.

Everyday is a new day were you have struggled and triumphed. Today you prayed a new prayer because you recognized your own desperate inability. Today you appreciated a far breeze in the midst of a Carolina summer. Today you have laughed, cried, and relished in a new song. You are closer today than you were yesterday to understanding the beauty and the chips in the piece you are becoming. 

Ephesians 2:10
For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

I love the image of Christ as a potter. I see Him there at the wheel, rough carpenter hands trying to smooth the clay into a masterpiece. I see Him leaning in closer to get the details right. He knows what he wants each unique piece to look like. I love that he is a potter, an artist, a visionary. He's not even a sculptor, cutting out hard granite with a carving knife. He uses his own hands. Its messy.

And he thinks I'm worth the mess.

It's incredible. I don't deserve it. All I can do is breathe in grace and breathe out gratitude. All I can try to do is grasp the freedom that comes from a perfect Artist declaring that- in the glory, in the mundane, and when life is shattered in pieces- we are His best piece of work.