My husband is away, catching up with his good friend of bible school days, also now a retired minister. I have it on good authority that salmon fishing on the Royal Dee River in Scotland is a chilly experience for a Floridian, even in the middle of summer. The photo he sent me show a man wearing almost every garment he took with him 😊. Poor man – add to this the fact that he was born under the African sun, and you get someone who enjoys the heat!

I am no hermit, but solitariness is a gift, a welcome visitor, as long as she doesn’t outstay her welcome! What I enjoy most about the quietness of solitude is the way thoughts surface and take on a life of their own. In the absence of distraction, they grow and give birth to ideas, insights and hopefully, a clearer understanding of how the ‘still, small voice’ of God operates in me. At present, the Holy Spirit is allowing me to speak into the lives of a number of people seeking godly counsel, which is, of course, biblical at this stage of life. So, I seek to tune my spirit to his frequency more intently than ever. However, I confess that sometimes I find listening for his voice easier than hearing someone’s heart. Sadly, I am still all too human, and more often than I like, judgments and expectations sneak in and get in the way.

I love how Psalm 103:14 says God sees us: “For he knows how weak we are; he remembers we are only dust” (NIV). Or as another version puts it: “He knows us inside and out, keeps in mind that we’re made of mud!” Sadly, no matter how ‘mature in God’ I seem, or wise, according to some, I am profoundly aware that sooner or later, my actions or reactions display my muddy dust. Today, as this unwelcome realization sinks in, another thought occurs (or a still, small, voice speaks?) and suddenly, instead of being discouraged, I experience a real bubble of joy. I am reminded that God calls himself The Potter. He could have used any material for his special creation, but he chose muddy dust.

As Master Potter, he uses the water of his Spirit to turn my unremarkable dust into workable clay. And then he gets his own hands dirty as with infinite care he seeks out every impurity that would cause disaster in the fiery furnace of life’s ups and downs. With surgical precision but also tender patience, he fashions and re-fashions his creation into a ‘vessel of honor.’

And then, of course, who can forget that for his first miracle, our Lord Jesus chose to turn the water in ordinary pots into the best wine anyone at that wedding had ever tasted?! It’s unlikely those pots were aware they had become vessels of honor but everyone at the celebration knew.

Perhaps that’s all that matters.

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