“Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker,
those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?’ Does your work say, ‘The potter has no hands’? Isaiah 45:9 (NIV)
Heavenly Father, even your “Woe’s” are gifts of grace, for they warn us of the limits of our perspective, the self-centeredness of our rants, and the depth of our unbelief. But above all, they remind us you are God, and we are not. A reminder we need.
Because some days we wish we could be you for fifteen minutes. That’d give us a chance to fix people that need fixing and bring judgment upon those who’ve got it coming. We’d also alleviate the sufferings of friends, take out world leaders who should be gone, make sure our stocks prosper, put an end to human trafficking, and move our loudest, messiest neighbors to other states. Alas, Father, we’re such a mix of good desires and self-serving agendas.
We need the gospel every day and every hour. We are potsherds among potsherds—mere modeling clay in your big, loving, mighty Potter hands. Your heart is bigger than the universe, your wisdom beyond all comparison, and your timetable makes Swiss precision seem like laissez-faire tardiness. How foolish we are to quarrel with our Maker and Redeemer.
There is a Day coming when you will put all things right and make all things new and beautiful—starting with us. Until that Day, grant us patience and deepen our trust, supersize our mercy and increase our kindness. Fill us to overflowing with kingdom kindness and living hope. Father grant us quick repentances when we vex and whine about the way you do your job. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ mighty and merciful name.
