The Tension Where Truth Lives

There is something humbling about a lump of clay.

It isn’t impressive.

It isn’t finished.

It doesn’t resemble anything useful yet.

It’s just… there.

But the potter doesn’t reject it for what it lacks.

He chooses it because of what it can become.

Most of us assume God begins with vessels.

Scripture says He begins with clay.

Before there is purpose, there is pressure.

Before usefulness, there is yielding.

Before shaping, there is submission to the wheel.

A lump doesn’t argue with the process.

It doesn’t defend its potential.

It doesn’t explain its past.

It simply stays.

And that may be the most spiritual thing any of us ever do —

stay on the wheel.

Some of us are afraid of the process because we confuse shaping with punishment.

But the potter’s hands are not instruments of anger — they are instruments of intention.

The pressure isn’t there to destroy the clay.

It’s there to center it.

The spinning isn’t there to disorient you.

It’s there to align you.

And the water — the very thing that softens the clay — is often what feels most uncomfortable. Grace has a way of doing that.

We talk a lot about calling.

We don’t talk enough about conditioning.

God rarely calls what He has not first prepared.

And preparation often looks nothing like progress.

There are moments when the clay resists.

Moments when it collapses.

Moments when the shape doesn’t hold.

Jeremiah saw it happen in the potter’s house —

the vessel was marred in the potter’s hand.

Not discarded.

Not abandoned.

Not shelved.

Still in His hands.

That detail matters.

Because some of us believe being marred disqualifies us.

But Scripture shows us it repositions us.

God doesn’t start over somewhere else.

He starts again right there.

I wish I could tell you I’m a finished work.

I’m not.

I wish I could say the shaping is behind me.

It isn’t.

The truth is — I’m still on the wheel.

And I’ve learned something along the way:

God does some of His deepest work before anything looks like ministry.

Before the platform… the pressure.

Before the message… the mess.

Before the vessel… the lump.

So if all you feel right now is unfinished…

If all you can see is clay…

If you’re tempted to believe you’ve been set aside…

You haven’t been shelved.

You’re being shaped.

And that means God isn’t done yet.