Mold Me

This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Go down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.” Then the word of the Lord came to me: “O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter does?” declares the Lord. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.” — Jeremiah 18:1-6

In the days of the Old Testament, clay for pots came straight from the ground. The lump of clay was dirty and had no beauty about it, especially with its disarray of twigs and pebbles. The potter would have to pick out the impurities by hand if he were to use the clay properly. Kneading and pressing the clay, the potter also removed air pockets so the clay wouldn’t explode in the heat of the fire.

Even today, as in the Old Testament, skilled potters have a vision for each lump of clay. There is purpose in every measurement, in every stroke of the hand, in every tool used, and even in the speed of the wheel. Eventually, the dirty lump of clay, full of sticks and stones, is shaped and molded by the potter’s hand to make a beautiful vessel to be used and to be shown for the glory of the potter.

It’s not easy for us today to fully comprehend this imagery of the potter and the clay, especially because most of us are not skilled potters. But this week, our team ventured out of Ljubljana, to Radovljica, for a day to learn about this Old Testament imagery and the chance to put ourselves in the potter’s shoes. (And let me tell you, if you’ve never used a pottery wheel, it’s harder than it looks!)

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The first and only time I used a pottery wheel was in eighth grade, and it was kind of a disaster. But I decided to give it another go this past week.

I started by throwing the clay onto the wheel and struggling to adjust it to the center. (If the clay isn’t centered, it will be unstable and will most likely collapse.) When the wheel starts to spin, I learned I needed to keep my hands steady while putting tremendous pressure on the clay. This was no easy task, because the clay wants to move from the center. So, I had to continue applying pressure until the clay stabilized (nearly 10 minutes!), all the while keeping the clay from drying out by sprinkling water on it.

Next, I pressed both of my thumbs into the middle of the clay to start the formation of the mug. Slowly, as I continued pressing the clay with my left hand, I was able to start forming the design I wanted with my other hand. I was so excited at the shape it was taking. But soon, the clay started to shift because I didn’t keep on as much pressure. I struggled to keep it from distorting, but eventually, I decided I needed to collapse the clay and start over. I was sad, but I knew that I wouldn’t be satisfied with a distorted mug. I wanted a pretty mug. So finally, after more pressure, more struggle, more shaping and guiding, my product was finished on the wheel. But I wasn’t satisfied with just a clay mug, I wanted to give it color and decoration. So I painted it and added some decorative flowers, and finished it off with my initial, signifying that it was my work.

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As followers of Jesus and believers in His promises for us, we are the clay. We came from the ground, being dirty and full of twigs and pebbles. Through the sacrifice of His Son, He cleanses us of all our impurities and gives us relationship with Himself. But He doesn’t stop there; God envisions beauty from clay.  He puts us in the middle of His wheel and applies pressure so we are centered and stable. And He keeps us centered throughout the process, always keeping one hand on us to direct us and shape us into who He wants us to be. When we start to dance away from the middle or go lopsided in our sin, He pulls us back, for He is not satisfied with a second-rate, distorted lump. He desires beauty. He has purpose. He desires to mold us into exquisite pieces of art that resemble Him and are used for His glory. And He desires marking us with His initial, saying, “She is mine.” If God, our perfect and personal Father, is the potter, what better hands could I ever be in?

Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. — Isaiah 64:8

Homecoming to Ljubljana

It’s hard to believe that I first arrived in my beautiful new home of Ljubljana, Slovenia already 15 days ago. It’s also hard for me to articulate all the emotions I experienced or even to capture all the things I’ve already seen or done. But I’ll at least try to give you an idea. Let’s flash back a few weeks to the day I was supposed to leave.

Thursday, September 12 was an odd day emotionally. That morning, I finished packing last-minute items in my two, 50-pound suitcases, loaded up the car, said “bye” to my Aunt Michelle, and made the drive with my parents to the airport. I remember feeling a mix of excitement, anticipation, fear, sadness, anxiety. The day for which I had been preparing for the past four months (or four years if you want to get technical) had finally arrived.

At the airport, I met one of my teammates Hilary (pictured below). After checking in our bags, we said our tearful goodbyes to our parents, which I must say was hard, especially knowing that I wouldn’t be able to hug them until April of next year. (I’m getting choked up now just thinking about it. *Wipes away tears*). And as usual, Mom and Dad waited to leave until I waved once through security.

Dad, Mom, and Me at the airport. Teary goodbyes... I'm so thankful for them.

But at this point, Hilary and I were ready for the long day of travel to finally get to a place we’d only heard about for years. The outpour of prayers, love, encouragement, and support on Facebook, Instagram, and through text messages was incredible.

We found our gate, and shortly after heard the news that our flight to Newark was delayed. First for an hour. Then for two hours. There was a groundstop in Newark, JFK, LaGuardia, Boston, and Washington Dulles because of an approaching storm. We were back and forth on the phone with our teammates, who were waiting for us in Newark, and our location director, trying to figure out what to do.

Eventually, we boarded the plane (three hours after we were supposed to have taken off). But we didn’t go anywhere. We taxied on the runway for more than an hour waiting for the OK to take off. That OK never came. Eventually, we went back to the terminal. At this point, our other teammates were boarded on our flight to Munich.

I was confused. Frustrated. I was upset with God. So many people are praying for us, why won’t You let us go? But God reminded me that this wasn’t a surprise to Him. It’s obvious He didn’t want us on that plane, just based on the fact that so many people were praying, and it still didn’t happen.

We scrambled to find other flights out that night. But nothing happened. Lloyd, an airport employee, was working with us to try and book flights for us. When he went into the computer, flight itineraries were booked for us for the next day. We got the last seats on the flight to Dulles, then to Munich. I still don’t know who booked the tickets, or how we got the last seats. But I do know the Lord provided in this way for us. And in the midst of everything, I still had deep-seated peace knowing that God always does what is best for me and what brings Him the most glory. Though I didn’t understand, I knew Hilary and I would be OK.

After 9 hours in the airport, my mom picked Hilary and me up from the airport and took us to a hotel, where Hilary and I spent the night. I was so nice getting to spend another few hours with my mom and getting to hug her again, especially after the day we had. I’m so thankful for that.

The next day, we gave it another go. This time went a little more smoothly. When we finally made it to Munich on Saturday morning, the rest of the team greeted us with smiles and hugs, which were very much needed on our end. There was overall a sense of relief when we got there. And the drive from Munich to Ljubljana was breathtaking, which helped a lot, too. What an awesome reminder of God and His creation!

Since then, we’ve been adjusting to life in the city, learning how the buses work and our way around the grocery stores, preparing as team for our start on campus, catching on to some Slovene words, and figuring out how to work the washing machine and dishwasher in our apartment, just to name a few things.

Ljubljana

Ljubljana!

Bus Pass, compete with my full name

Bus Pass, compete with my full name

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part of the fun has been exploring Ljubljana and some nearby villages. Last weekend, as a team we hiked through one of Slovenia’s national parks and spent the night at the weekend home of Uroš (oo-rōsh), one of the student volunteers in our campus ministry Vsak Študent.

From left: Uroš, Katie, Mike, Hilary, Andrew, Me, Anna, Hayley, Melissa, and John

From left: Uroš, Katie, Mike, Hilary, Andrew, Me, Anna, Hayley, Melissa, and John. Photo by Uroš

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Did I mention how beautiful this country is? Because it is.

I’m just constantly amazed at how the Lord has provided in the last few weeks, and throughout the last year to bring me here. It’s incredible to think of all the little ways He has made this year possible — physical healing, prayer and financial partners to send me, food that I can eat here (including rice milk gelato!!), and encouraging teammates, who are also a lot of fun!

Hazelnut rice gelato!

Hazelnut rice gelato!

I’ve also been blessed to see some of fruit that God is producing in the ministry in Ljubljana. (In my next post later this week, I’ll share more about the spiritual climate in Ljubljana and share stories about some of the students I’ve met.)

P.S. To follow our ministry in Ljubljana and what our team is doing, check out our blog, Sent To Slovenia.