Broken Clay Pot

2 Corinthians

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this TREASURE in earthen vessels that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

*********************************************************************************

We are subject to being tired and weary. We have days that it is ONLY by faith we live and ONLY by faith that we move and ONLY by faith have our being. BY FAITH we rejoice and sing, BY FAITH we speak but there are days that I am weary, and my clay pot is subject to be broken.

We were not designed to carry the weight of the world we are clay pots and inside of this destructible vessel lives the indestructible TREASURE of heaven. The very same spirit, THE SAME SPIRIT, that raised Christ Jesus from the dead live IN ME. In my clay pot lives the third person of the trinity. The Holy Spirit HIMSELF. He brings to me council and direction and wisdom if I will stop to hear.

HE gives guidance in all seasons of my life and HE consoles and ministers to me when my clay pot is under great distress. When the world pushes in on me and fissures begin to appear in my fragile exterior HE mends and heals and strengthens from the inside out. HE so loves my clay pot that HE came to take up HIS abode and constantly reinforce the purpose HE has set before me.

BUT...... I am a clay pot.. I weep and I grieve and I break and have need of mending. I struggle to live yet I die daily. I sometimes hold on to this life with a grip of an iron hand refusing to relinquish my hold for the promise of a greater life.

I am a clay pot with the treasure of heaven encased deep within who I am. HE weeps when I weep and when I dance with my red tambourine HE will dance......... HE is all in all IN ME........ but I am a worn vessel subject to the cruel hand of the world coming to chip away at my exterior. I am a clay pot.

Never meant to be strong and mighty, never asked to do the impossible and never expected to toil without tears. We are clay pots and somewhere deep within the mortal clay that will crumble and return each of us to dust, lives the very person in the trinity that when God spoke 'Let there be" HE moved upon the face of the deep and life was, light was.

The very breath of God lives in my clay pot and because of HIS life in me the days that I crack under the pressure I am reassured that HE is the corner stone and HE is the master potter and in HIS hands I am sheltered. HE is the "I Am" and HE moves quickly to shelter me from being dashed upon the rocks.

Today my clay pot was in shambles and broken I sat and cried out to the only one that can mend the broken clay. My fleshly clay pot is weary and it longs for a place in time that I can feel at peace but just for a while..... I weep.

I heard from my youngest son today that my first born son Darryl had a stroke on Wednesday.
He has a hole in his heart and will see a surgeon in a few weeks.

I pray that my Father God from whom all life flows go before that surgeon and guide the hands that repair that earthen vessel known as Darryl. I have cried more today... Silly me, thinking that the 25 years that we have been estranged would somehow scar over the love that a mother has for a son. Silly me. I weep over lost years and I sob over a son that I need to hold..

I will go to the potter from where my life first started and HE will mend my clay pot from the inside out, and HE will hear the sobs of a mother grieving over a son and HE will go into that room HE will keep watch for me........ I know HE will.......

But HE was wounded for my broken clay pot and my transgressions; he was bruised for my broken clay pot iniquities: the chastisement of the peace of my broken clay pot was upon HIM; and with HIS stripes my broken clay pot can be mended and healed.

And within this vessel of clay is place the TREASURE of heaven.