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Crying Out to Our Father-Potter

“Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?’ Does your work say, ‘The potter has no hands’?” Isaiah 45:9

Heavenly Father-Potter, thank you for your patience and kindness with us. In light of Isaiah’s two questions, we stand convicted. Fortunately, because of the Gospel, we are also standing in your grace.

Forgive us for questioning your thinking, planning, and working. It’s true—our vexing, plotting, manipulating all say, “the Potter has no hands.” Alas, Father, we’re a mix of godly concerns, patent unbelief, wanna-be-potter-envy.

We, and all of history—including our children, our suffering, and things we can’t control—are modeling clay in your wise, loving, sovereign Potter-hands. Your heart is bigger than the universe, and your ways are as perfect as Jesus. Your timetable isn’t ours, but your grace is.

Please help us, Father. Some of the things that keep us up at night, and weigh us down all day long, aren’t selfish at all. It’s hard to watch people we love live “allergic” to you and the Gospel, make unwise choices, and distance themselves from us.

Deepen our trust, supersize our mercy, and increase our faith. What does loving-well look like? Father grant us quick repentances when we vex and carp about the way you do pottery. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ mighty and merciful name.

 

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