In the corner of my living room, there sits a little clay lamp – it’s an antique little oil lamp which a friend of mine brought back from Israel. It’s the color of terra cotta, it has a crack on the handle, and it looks just like one of those small Arabian lamps, the kind that a genie would live in, lamps from the Arabian nights. It’s just a small thing made of fragile clay and I really shouldn’t leave it out on the table like that. I was told it was made many years ago by a potter in Jerusalem, and to me it’s a treasure.
Like I said, it should be in a glass display case under lock and key, but I’ve chosen to keep it out in plain view. Because I want it to be a reminder to me as I pass by it in the morning on my way out the door. I want it to remind me that if I want to be used by the Lord in some fresh way today, then I have to be filled by the Spirit of God. Just like a little clay lamp needs oil. It won’t burn without being filled with oil. I can’t be filled by the Spirit unless first He molds me into the clay vessel that He wants me to be. And He can’t mold me until he first melts me. Ouch! That’s the part that hurts. Nobody ever enjoys that crushing part of the Christian life that breaks the pride, cracks apart the stubbornness, crumbles the resistance, and melts our hearts. You don’t like it, and I don’t like it.
Which is funny because we all say we want to be filled with the Spirit. We want to be used by God. But you can’t have a filling of the Spirit unless you become that willing clay vessel.
Jeremiah 18 puts it this way. God tells the prophet to “‘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 it seemed best to him.”
That’s me. I was once the marred clay in God's hands. And so God formed me into a different kind of clay vessel – one that sits down in a wheelchair. And that shape was the one that seemed best to my Lord. And you know what? I am one little clay vessel, I am… and I'm now the other pot living a life quite different than if I had remained on my feet. But for that, I am thrilled.
And if ever I become discontent with the crushing of my pride or the crumbling of my resistance to the will of God, if ever I feel too tired to empty myself and welcome the filling of God's Spirit in this paralyzed life of mine, all I have to do is glance at that little clay lamp on the corner table of my living room. It’s all the reminder I need that God and God alone has shaped me as I am.
Used by permission of
JONI AND FRIENDS
P.O. Box 3333
Agoura Hills, CA 93176
© Joni and Friends