The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Come, go down to the potter’s house, and there I will let you hear my words.” So I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was working at his wheel. The vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as seemed good to him. Then the world of the Lord came to me: “Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as this potter had done?” says the Lord.  Just like the clay in the potter’s hand, so you are in my hand, O house of Israel.”
- Jeremiah 18:1-6

This is another one of those biblical images which I believe that we in the 21st century have more than likely lost touch with. How many of us have been to a potter’s studio? Don’t feel bad, very few have.

In Jeremiah’s day, potters were common; there was a potter in most every town. The potter would have gone out into the countryside to the place where clay was to be found; he would have carted all the gathered clay back to his home. And, there he would spend hours picking out all the little stones, twigs, all the soil that was not the best clay—all of the impediments that would have caused problems in the pot making process. He would then have kneaded the clay—like a baker with bread dough—to make sure that all of the air bubbles were out of the clay. What happens when air is left in the clay and it is baked? Right—it explodes from the expanding air—but in addition to exploding—the shards become missiles and shatter all the surrounding pots—quite possibly breaking all the items in the kiln. Making sure air is out of the clay is critical to the potter.

The dead, lifeless lump of clay is then centered on the wheel. If the clay is not centered—it will fly off the wheel when the potter picks up speed in the forming process. As the wheel turns the potter will make the lump rise and then applying pressure will press the lump back into itself. This building up and pressing down releases any captured air. It may happen two, three, or more times, depending on how the clay feels in the potter’s firm but gentle, moist hands.

It is only when the potter is comfortable with the clay, does he start to form the clay. The potter does not form the clay with outstretched arms. The potter leans over the lifeless lump, his torso directly over the clay, arms encircling the clay working the clay from the inside and the outside. It almost seems as if the potter is cradling the clay—as a mother or father would try to protect a child caught out in a storm. There is an intimacy between the potter and the clay. The potter desires the best from the clay. The clay is never finished until it undergoes the first firing. The potter can start again at any point.

I love this image from Jeremiah. It restores my soul and gives me great hope. God, as the potter, is constantly picking out my impediments, gently kneading my heart and mind. The story reminds me that intimacy with God is always present—God never gives up. God builds me up and presses me down ever forward to being the best vessel I can be.

Has God been working over you lately? Encouraging all of your air bubbles out? Take heart God loves you so dearly that God decided to make only one of you! You are unique and beloved—magnificent work in progress!