The picture you see is the actual laptop that I am writing these words on now. It might sound pretentious, I suppose, to title this "The Best" words. Obviously they are not the best, but maybe they are my best...may they are not.
I was sitting down to work on one of several articles that I have begun and left unfinished. I pulled out my laptop and the piece of pvc pipe with little clamps on the end. I pulled out the charger to plug it in, not because it was dead but because it never holds a charge for very long anymore. I clipped the strange apparatus that my husband made, onto the front of the screen, so that it applies direct pressure in the exact spot needed for the screen to work. I turn it on and carefully type in my password, my fingers deftly working around the missing keys.
This is familiar and comfortable, I suppose you could compare this laptop to a rusty old type writer used years ago to pound out thousands of words and stories. I sometimes have a hard time letting go of what brings comfort and familiarity. Truth be told, we all do.
There will come times when we have to, when we have no choice. Times when we find ourselves in unfamiliar places and situations and we are over come with thoughts of "why?" and "How?". It's not always a case of not knowing God, or even trusting in Him. It can be as simple as, "I don't know how to do this, to be this?"
I don't know what God wants me to do anymore. I may never know, at least not in the way that I would like to. I have faith, but I'm like most everyone else. I like things clearly explained and defined, tied up in neat little packages. I even enjoy a pretty little bow on top if there is time. There's not always time, and a bow is not always appropriate.
Visions of perception are not always visions of reality.
Reality has a way of grabbing hold and refusing to let go.
Reality can break you.
When you are broken everything that you have contained inside spills out...
When you are broken you feel unable...
When you are broken you don't know who you are supposed to be.
What if, what is inside us, our stories, can't come out until they are spilled out, through the broken pieces?
A potter continuously, tirelessly, faithfully...
working, reworking, shaping, reshaping, forming, reforming
Not gathering pieces and repairing, not "putting back together" the old.
Creating and recreating...vessel...after vessel...after vessel...after vessel...
What if that is who we are?
That is who we are.
And who am I, to "quarrel with the potter".