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Expecting the Unexpected

I'm behind in posting a new blog, and God has led me to share something a bit different this time.

When I left home that morning a few months ago, I thought I'd be home in a couple of hours. I never expected to take an ambulance ride and spend fifteen days in two hospitals. I didn't expect a heart attack and major surgery--to be followed by another hospital stay with another major surgery three months later.

Yet, God was not surprised. He went before me and prepared the way. He sent one of the most capable and caring surgeons possible. I received a special encouragement when the surgeon said he and his wife were praying for me. 

God accomplished some emotional and spiritual goals in and through me. I received hundreds of cards and messages assuring me of prayer support. I couldn't believe the number of opportunities to share my faith these circumstances offered. Perhaps I'll not know all that happened until I reach heaven.

These circumstances added new meaning to a poem and prayer I had written some years earlier.

“We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives” (2 Corinthians 4:7).

THE CACHE

The Master Potter
molds a terracotta urn
to His plan,
refines it in a crimson kiln,
fills it with treasure.

Passersby drop trash,
in and around
the clay pot,
ignoring its presence,
not grasping its worth.

The Maker sees His creation,
hears her low moans,
feels tears splash
on the precious
treasure inside.

Incalculable value lies
hidden, until
the container shatters.
Magnificent in brokenness,
the jar of clay lays,

in emotional rubble,
while glittering glory,
spills out, so all
may partake
of the treasure.


Master Potter,

You can make vessels any way You choose. You are more than capable. You are unrivaled as an artist. Your wisdom lacks nothing.

Yet, You chose to use a plain clay pot to hold Your most precious treasure. You moved Your Spirit into me, Your clay pot, as You moved Your Shekinia glory into a tabernacle in the wilderness.

As Your body broke on the cross, Your Gospel Message spilled out with Your blood. Now You’ve entrusted that Message into the care of Your children. I shiver to think of the privilege and responsibility that entails.

I offer my body as a living sacrifice. My pride must break, so You can show through--perhaps my body must break. Do what You will, Lord.

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