Painting a Pig

Last Thursday was one of the hardest days that I have had since losing Ireland. The funny thing is, there was no specific thing that made it so difficult. It just stunk.

The day started the same as every other day, get up, shower, drink large cup of coffee, eat some form of breakfast, and check facebook. (I have an addiction). Then it’s onto the boys. Get them up, showered, dried off, clothed, hair combed, fed, watered, teeth brushed, beds made, shoes on, backpacks packed, coats on, homework found (losing it is a daily occurrence), diaper bag packed (hopefully that will be falling off of the list soon, Moose is starting to make some potty-training progress. He will pee in the toilet, or on the floor, or on his mother, or really anywhere the urge strikes him, thank goodness for hardwood floors).

I herded Cooper and the carpool kids to school and was off to Bible Study. Once I hit the doors of the church, it was like a dam broke, and I lost all composure, I was a wreck, I managed to get the boys into their classes and I ducked into the closest ladies room, locked myself into a stall and just sobbed. I am sure it was quite the noise for the ladies washing their hands. I sort-of got it together, but I just felt weak, ridiculous and drained.

By the time I left study, I just wanted to break things, it didn’t matter what it was. I could feel this anger just welling up and out of me, it was scary. I had my two little guys with me, and the last thing that they needed to see was their mommy lose it. So I stuffed it.

I gave myself a little goal, if I could make it until 2:20 when Cooper got out of school, I would take the kids to a pottery shop and we would paint pottery (I was fully intending to grab the nearest pot and just smash it.) I didn’t care if it made a mess, and I honestly didn’t care how much it would cost. I just wanted to break it into little pieces, and then stomp on it. Mature I know. But that was my plan.

We got to the pottery shop with my pot smashing plan firmly in place, and this is what happened….. I couldn’t bring myself to smash anything, all the pieces were too interesting to ruin….they were nothing special, just plain pieces of clay, but what made me stop and look around, is that those pieces were just like me, nothing special, just ordinary….but given the right kind of artist, they would become something beautiful. Something spectacular.

The reason for this blog is simple; it is all about this very concept. It is about taking something plain, and in my case broken, and turning it into something incredible and useable.


“Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.” So I went 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.


Jeremiah 18:2-4


I am learning, and praying this passage over and over, please Lord, mold me into what seems best to you, not my will but yours.  Your will, Lord. I trust you, I know you are making me into something beautiful!

Love to you all,

 

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