Trusting the Hands of the Potter to Transform His Clay

One of my devotionals was posted on the Rest Ministries’ website today and sent out via subscription. Most often when writing words of encouragement to others in a devotional, my intent is to focus on the message that God has helped me to discover as my challenges overwhelm me. 

A reader, who deals with the same challenges, wrote to me after a devotional of mine posted some months ago. She was grateful to have found another who knows how she feels and what she experiences, as I had been a bit more specific about my chronic condition. She told me that she appreciated my bringing “vestibular dysfunction” to the awareness of readers. It had me rethinking my focus - not for every devotional - but to state with more vulnerability what it is that God has helped me deal with for decades. 

Thus, the following devotional is for now, and for whoever may find a blessing in it, and perhaps a kindred soul on this life journey who understand because she/he is walking the same path.

To view the devotional as posted on the Rest Ministries’ website,

 click here.

There have been some beautiful responses that help me to know that others are now more aware of the writer behind the words and the One who is guiding me along His way. To share that is a blessing.

Trusting the Hands of the Potter to Transform His Clay

 “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 18:4).

A friend told me years ago that she had never known anyone to be, so literally, on the Potter’s wheel as I am!

I have lived with vestibular dysfunction - constant dizziness, eruptions of internal spinning vertigo, related bouts with nausea and a striving to keep my balance - since March of 1983. The cause is unknown though doctors believe a virus hit my right inner ear as evidence of damage is there.

It hit in one instant, has refused to leave, and has defied all treatments. 

In early March, 2013, a differing form of vertigo hit, blindsiding me with its vengeance. 

Similar in debilitation, it has a differing trigger and was diagnosed as BPV ( benign positional vertigo). 

There is a therapy that has been successful for others in correcting this. I sought its help, praying for relief. The process is a nightmare putting one into a vertigo state in hopes that small crystals, flaked off and  lodged in a semi-circular canal of the labyrinth, where they do not belong, will return and stick in the part of the inner ear where they do. 

As I write this devotional, early April, I have chosen to stop the treatments as there has been no signs of improvement, no guarantee that any will emerge. My therapist is in agreement as she has witnessed the agony I was enduring, unlike  other patients of hers in the past. I am choosing to let the Potter work with me on his own.

In the context of this Jeremiah verse, the clay the potter was working with was flawed as Israel needed to repent of its ways and be reshaped

However, my vestibular system, though newly flawed, falls, more directly into the translation given in the New Century Version of this verse:

“He was using his hands to make a pot from clay, 

but something went wrong with it. 

So he used that clay to make another pot 

the way he wanted it to be”( Jeremiah 18:4 NCV).

God’s care in transforming each of us is personally designed for the clay that is “us”.  He alone can accomplish the transformation because He loves and knows his original design. 

Prayer

 Lord, I know I am safe in your caring hands although the transformation process is hard. Remaining still in spirit, if not body, I put my trust in You as You complete your work in me. Amen.

Jamie Zach is a talented potter who invited me  

to come to his studio and take photos of him at work at his wheel.

 Audrey Assad sings of the restlessness we each experience until we surrender to rest in the caring hands of the Lord. This is not easily done when we are being transformed on the Potter’s wheel but paradoxically, it is only in surrender that we can release the restlessness. May her song soothe you as you let its message come inward and settle you.

Click here to listen to the song.

Reasons for Rejoicing - Easter, 2013

Reasons for Rejoicing

Easter - 2013

What better day could there be for “Letting All Creation Sing!”? 

As many in our world celebrate Easter Sunday this year, 

I am posting two of my favorite Easter songs. 

Each song was written by a favorite musical artist of mine:

David Meece  with 

We Are the Reason

 and 

The Second Chapter of Acts with 

Easter Song. 

Read the lyrics and mediate on their meanings.

 Listen to the songs and sing along. 

That is what I am doing today. 

Much joy and love to each of you 

who have stopped by to spend 

a bit of your Easter day with me! 

We are the Reason

 Words & Music by David Meece 

Copyright 1980 Meece Music 

As little children we would dream of Christmas morn
And all the gifts and toys we knew we'd find
But we never realized a baby born one blessed night
Gave us the greatest gift of our lives

And we were the reason that He gave His life
We were the reason that He suffered and died
To a world that was lost He gave all He could give
To show us the reason to live

As the years went by we learned more about gifts
And giving of ourselves and what that means
On a dark and cloudy day a man hung crying
in the rain
Because of love, because of love

And we are the reason that He gave His life
We are the reason that He suffered and died
To a world that was lost He gave all He could give
To show us the reason to live

I finally found the reason for living
It's in giving every part of my heart to Him
In all that I do every word that I say
I'll be giving my all just for Him
For Him

And we are the reason that He gave His life
We are the reason that He suffered and died
To a world that was lost He gave all He could give
To show us the reason to live

He is my reason to live

Click here to listen to the song!

Photo by Lynn

Easter Song

Words and Music by Annie Herring

Hear the bells ringing
They're singing that we can be born again
Hear the bells ringing
They're singing Christ is risen from the dead

The angel up on the tombstone
Said, "He has risen, just as He said
Quickly now, go tell His disciples
That Jesus Christ is no longer dead"

Joy to the world
He has risen, Hallelujah
He's risen, Hallelujah
He's risen, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hear the bells ringing
They're singing that we can be born again
Hear the bells ringing
They're singing Christ is risen from the dead

The angel up on the tombstone
Said, "He has risen, just as He said
Quickly now, go tell His disciples
That Jesus Christ is no longer dead"

Joy to the world
He has risen, Hallelujah
He's risen, Hallelujah
He's risen, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Click here to listen to the song!

March Memories

March Memories

Margaret Heins Severance

July 13,1922  -  March 13, 2001

I recently came across a piece of notebook paper that bore my mother’s handwriting. What she wrote is below in the body of this blog posting. Another hand written printing of it is in the introduction pages of the scrapbook she gave to me when I finished high school and it holds photos and other memorabilia that range from my birth year up through my high school years. What a treasured labor of love it remains to be to me. It brings joys untold as I revisit those years and all they held.

March. It is the month when, in our North American hemisphere, the season of spring emerges bringing its promise of new life and hope after long winter months. It seems appropriate that the month of spring’s arrival was the time God ordained for my mother, Maggie, to leave her earthly home and enter in to the eternal spring where new Life and color-filled brilliance beyond our imaginings exists - reunited with her Creator. For my mother, whose life and smile brought joy and a sense of spring to all she met, it was indeed appropriate.

In the hospice facility’s room, where my mother lie during her last days, there was a window. Just outside the window, new life was beginning to bloom. Daffodils, primroses, and a flowering cherry tree framed my feelings that were grief ladened. 

I had moved in to the room for what turned out to be six days. I brought in bouquets to set by her bedside along with other floral gifts friends and family had brought or sent. God was preparing me and I know that He was preparing my Mom internally for her time of leaving. Life is temporary here on earth, but life is not ending, although these kinds of earthly goodbyes are the hardest to say and experience.

God’s gift of life came to me via my parents - a gift for which I am grateful. In the writing my mother found to use as an introduction to the scrapbook of photos to mirror some of my early years, she found  sweet expressions of her hopes and dreams that she wished for me.

They are ever appropriate thoughts to express for a life newly begun or a live fully lived. The author of these words is unknown to me, but all that they express were known by my mother and continue to be experienced by me.

During this spring’s month of March, I share them with you as I remember my Mom, her life, my life and the life that we have each been given as a gift.

I was just thinking . . .

If the seed that was to become you had never flowered, do you know what you would have missed?

   The sun’s gold blessing on your head,
The sound of your own voice,
your own laughter,
your own tears.

The miracle of your own body, a beautiful instrument, designed for experiencing, learning, caring, achieving.

The sweetness of water on thirsty lips and the silk of it on dusty skin.

The taste of bread, fruit, meat, and all the mingled caress of their fragrance.

Long grass under your toes,
a bird in flight against a cloud,
the soaring ache of the universe beyond the stars.

The release of rain and the awesome anger of thunder.

The satisfaction of seeking and finding the peace of fulfillment.

A certain ecstasy at unspecified times and for unspecified reasons, yet somehow, a justification for living.

A quick recognition of love in the lines of a face, the touch of hands, in words left unsaid, in an act of kindness for no other reason.

Seeing again the same hometown, the same home, the same family as for the first time and seeing them in the full circle of existence.

The creation of a child, or a place, or a piece of something beyond self, giving your heart the right to beat for more than it’s own need.

The lights of man’s night and the night of God’s lights and you between, a partner of both.

The privilege of being allowed these years out of eternity to share the greatest adventure you can ever know . . 

Life itself.

Lynn with brothers, David. Michael, and our Mom

1999

Rainbows in the Night

I was asked to do a guest post on deni Weber’s website, 

Today’s Encouraging Words. 

     Click here to view deni’s page and read how God has used rainbows to encourage her at key times, and currently as she walks with her husband through an intense health crisis in his life. 

      I had not known that rainbows are so special to deni when I sent my devotional to her. I love how God works behind the scenes to help us in our times of need. 

Praises and thanks be to Him! 

Rainbows in the Night

“I have set my rainbow in the clouds, 

and it will be the sign of the covenant

 between me and the earth”

(Genesis 9:13).

Rainbows! 

As children we thought they held treasures with pots of gold at each end. 

Don’t we all perk up when we see an actual rainbow in the sky? They can surprise us as we happen upon them. When rain has washed the sky and the sun quickly emerges, I look for a rainbow! If I am alert, I may see one.

Yet in this Scripture, we are told

 that God sets his rainbow in the cloud. 

His covenant is in the cloud? 

How can something so bright be shut inside darkened heaviness? 

Rainbows are a bounty arching forth as clouds’ heaviness can no longer contain the build up of water vapor. It spills back to earth as rain. The sun can splash prisms of color to celebrate this release.

 I understand the principle of clouds releasing rain but I never have set out to look for clouds.

Clouds pale, literally, when the sun splashes the prism of colors and a rainbow bursts forth. 

     What of the times our lives seem shadowed, overwhelmed with the daily challenges we each face? 

 We don’t always see the sun. Another Scripture helps me to respond to this question.

“[Nothing] will be able to separate us 

from the love of God 

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” 

(Romans 8:39b).

God’s covenant with us has not changed. All his promises lie within us where he dwells. The clouds may loom heavy but he towers with more power.

God and His promises cannot be separated. 

Our circumstances, our minds, our feelings can become clouded. Fears may bring heaviness, so dark.  Yet  the light of the rainbow inside us comes from God’s Presence. He has promises to give.

I can water the promises into view, so to speak, when I relax and allow God to release the rain, to carry my burdens, to care for me by his shining forth. His light tramples darkness, releasing his prism of promises.

 I want to focus, not on the heaviness, but on the colors about to emerge.

Prayer
Lord,  

I rejoice 

that the colors of the rainbow 

shine forth 

your hope, 

announcing your everlasting covenant with me. 

My relationship is not with the darkness 

and heaviness of clouds, 

but with you, the Light in my life. 

Amen 

Photo by Lynn

Living in the Questions

This blog entry is a revision of an article of mine that was published in Rest Ministries’ Hopekeepers magazine. It appeared in the 

January/February/March issue, 2006. 

Living in the Questions

My first Bible is a bit heavier than when I first received it as a gift from a friend decades ago. Yes, it contains the life- giving words of God; many of them underlined as they have given me inspiration over the years. Dates are scribbled by them and often a note of what was happening in my life a the time. Yet strewn among its many pages, I’ve other mementos: 

 a few favorite photos of loved ones, 

 timely words of encouragement from friends,

 a  scrawled note from one of my third grade students

 in 1988 saying, 

Miss S you are nise,

a very dried eucalyptus leaf I snitched from a tree 

at sunrise by the Sea of Galilee,

a dried bougainvillea bloom from Cana in Galilee,

and other paper bits that hold significance for me.

Close to thirty years ago, I cut out a written piece in a church bulletin and added it to this collection. To the best of my recall, it was written by Chuck Swindoll. It is but a small scrap, so tiny that there are times I have not been able to find it when purposely looking for it!  It reads:

  

“It is your future.

Don’t back into it.

Don’t grope into 
its mists blindfolded.

Put the hand of your faith 
into the Hand of God.

Get used to His voice.

He warns you of dangers 
and of strangers.

He leads you to experience 
His prepared future.

It does not disappoint.

There is always more
 for those 
who walk with Him.

He straightens question marks
 into exclamation points!”

Many questions about my future were present when I first read these thoughts. More have emerged over these ensuing years. 

There is my daily challenge since 1983

with vestibular dysfunction, 

constant dizziness, 

flares of internal spinning of literal vertigo and

related visual and balance issues.

I underwent breast cancer surgery 

in 1987 and

 chemotherapy treatments for six months.

There was my early retirement 

from my teaching career in 1992,

the death of loved ones,

wonderings about decisions 

that needed to be made in many areas,

and the list could go on. 

Somewhere along the trail of my life with this bulletin excerpt, I got to thinking more deeply about the message it presented. I came to a conclusion that brought me an encouraging perspective.

What could it mean - what would it look like - to really live within the questions in my life? 

A question marks the spot of a seeking moment.

 It stops me. 

I  want the right answer. 

I  want it now!

Often I discover that the right answer requires a different timing than my  insistent now. In such cases all I can really do is wait. 

I picture the literal configuration of the punctuation question mark with its curves and swirl. 

What if I were to crawl right into a question mark? 

This would curl me into the fetal position as in the birth canal, 

quietly waiting upon the Lord. 

I would need to depend upon him much as I had to totally depend upon him during my own gestation time. Then, I had no other option but to wait. Now, I can make a choice on how I will wait. 

When the answer is ready, 

the birthing takes place

and 

reconfigures the question mark   ? 

 into an exclamation point   !  .

Right timing, 

God’s timing. 

Right answer, 

 God’s answer.

Although I now keep this scrap of paper in my Bible with the Deuteronomy verses noted here, 
it could very well rest within other pages with highlighted inspiration,
perhaps some of these excerpts.

This first Scripture verse stayed me during the years I worked with primary aged students as an
 elementary classroom teacher! 

“He will feed his flock like a shepherd,

 he will gather the lambs in his arms, 

he will carry them in his bosom,and

 gently lead those that are with young”

(Isaiah 40:11 RSV).

July 5,1979 

sunrise on 
the Sea of Galilee

 5:20a.m.

I was alone watching the sunrise that morning. What a gift of time alone with God, watching Him start the day. I was led to the verse below. It reminded me of Jesus' need to seek the Father, question, grieve, wait for answers.

“Now when Jesus heard this, 
[death of John, the Baptist]
he withdrew from there in a boat 
to a lonely place apart” 

(Matthew 14:13a RSV)

July 6, 1979
inscription on the wall 
of the church in Cana of Galilee

“Cana proclaims to us that Jesus 
is the Lord Almighty 
Who turns water into wine,
Who can still today, 
by one word, 
transform anything:
sorrow into joy,
mountains of difficulty 
into straight paths.
Do we bring our needs to him?”

August 7, 1987
This Scripture was given to me the morning of my cancer surgery.

He reached from on high, he took me,
he drew me out of many waters.
He delivered me from my strong enemy,
 and from those who hated me;
  for they were too mighty for me”

(Psalm 18:16-17 RSV).

February, 1988

This is a love note from my Mom 

at the completion 

of my chemotherapy treatments! 

IT’S OVER! 

PRAISE DE LAWD!! 

I LOVE YOU! 

MOM

The call on my life to be an encourager:

“Comfort, 

comfort my people,
says your God” 

(Isaiah 40:1 RSV)


Oh, there are many encouragements such as these strewn throughout my well-worn Bible. 

The paper bits of mementos and noted verses reflect the asking and the answering of some but not all questions. There will always be more. If I choose to live in the questions, I am less likely to wander far. I want to be near to hear God’s voice exclaim the answers when His time is right. 

 “For everything there is 
a season, 
and a time for every matter 
under heaven”

(Ecclesiastes 3:1 RSV).

Photo by Lynn

Through the Fog . . . To the Music

Through the Fog . . . To the Music

This past summer, August 4th, was a sunshine bright, comfortably warm, blue skies day in the Seattle area. It was a day that lived up to the song lyrics: 

“The bluest skies you’ll ever see are in Seattle.” 

Ah, I was so excited! 

I had been waiting months for this day. I had set aside the date to drive downtown, an 18 mile distance from my home. It was important to arrive at 1p.m. which was when tickets went on sale to the public for a future concert in the gorgeous Benaroya Concert Hall.

 This concert was to feature trumpet virtuoso, Chris Botti, in appearance with the Seattle Symphony. 

Ah, again!

Chris Botti is such a favorite musical artist to millions internationally, but all I cared about is that he is a favorite of mine. I could have ordered tickets online but I preferred to deal with a live person at the box office who I knew would search out the best seats I could afford. Of course, I figured there would be a long line as Chris Botti is so popular. 

I arrived in record time, got a quick parking space in the concert hall garage, (free for folks purchasing tickets), found my way upstairs. and not one soul was in the lobby. But a wonderful clerk was at the box office! He had me set up in no time with a ticket for an exceptionally low fee. I would be sitting in the center section on the main floor, six rows from the stage. 

How could I let this joy-filled day in Seattle pass me by and not drive over to our city’s Pike Place Market Center, which was only 3 blocks from the concert hall?  Here, the aisles are filled with vendors selling:

 fresh produce,
 fresh seafood, 
craft items,
 all kinds of wares,
 and 
the most abundant 
array of fresh flowers.

 I am sure the flowers would fill up acres were they still growing in the fields. This section of the market is one feast for the eyes. 

It seemed that all Seattleites had found their way to the market this sunny day. It took 3 trips around a series of blocks to finally find a parking spot that would meet my needs. I did not plan to stay long, just long enough to buy some flowers to commemorate the joy of the day. 

Yes, a 30 minuted parking space was just the one for me! 

Photos were snapped, bouquets bought for a song of a price, and I was on my way back home exclaiming, 

“Oh, what a wonderful day,” 
and thanking God for all that had transpired.

That was August and the months rolled by. As I turned the calendar to the new year’s January pages,  January 17th was shining forth like a beacon!

Unlike the sunny skies of summer in Seattle, we were having cold weather, some rain, and the day before the concert date, unusual fog - low lying fog - and it was not expected to lift. 

With some anxiety, but more faith than anxiety, I anticipated the drive to the concert to be paved with the light of my anticipation, if not the bright light of the August summer day. I had 4 miles of road to drive from my home to reach the interstate freeway. I was open to common sense prevailing, as well.

The whole evening was quite an experience, on all levels. The roads were dry, the visibility driving to the concert was clear enough as the strong lights that bordered the freeway beamed down. Yes, fog was evident in their stream but not in the path of the road where I needed to see. It was early evening and the taillights of many cars also helped light the way.

I was reminded of a Scripture verse from Psalm 119:105a:

“By your words I can see where I’m going;
they throw a beam of light on my dark path” 
(The Message).

The desires set forth on that sunny summer day had found their fulfillment route opened. God calmed flickers of anxiety and nudged me to trust Him to clear the way! It meant seeking his music in spite of the fog. What a metaphor for our lives - at least for our lives with Him as our Guide.

His Light brought joy to my soul even with the fog evidenced, as I was safe inside the light, not the fog. It almost felt as if I was suspended in the scene and not doing the driving, although I was at the wheel.

It reminded me that when my life path is shrouded in fog, I need to listen for his guidance; to either wait, to cautiously walk a ways, or to know I can move ahead. He often brings songs during the dimmer times in my life. I know it is Him as my circumstances are scored in minor notes. I need his Presence to ward off any fears and to hear the song He has for me, the one He recored before all time. He knows each section of my life's road and when I will need a stronger touch from Him.

I would have missed a gorgeous evening, saturated in the beauty of those using their gifted musical talents to fill the hearts and souls of those present. I would have missed lively conversation with those who sat next to me and near me when there was an intermission break. All were experiencing joy!

The fog was heavier en route home at 10 p.m. and the roads less populated. Highway signs were barely visible until I was right to them. Once off the freeway, it was nearly eerie. But I knew the road. I knew the One at the wheel with me. I had the music of his Presence as well as the literal music from the evening filling me to the brim. It outshone any fog and will be a bright remembrance when other dim-filled times are present in my life.

It was not summer, but summertime was surely evident! 

The following song and artist were part of the Seattle evening.

Emmanuel

featuring Caroline Campbell 

in Warsaw “here” - in Seattle 1/17

Seasoned

Seasoned

But the land you are crossing the Jordan 

to take possession of 

is a land

 of mountains and valleys 

that drinks rain from heaven. 

It is a land the Lord your God cares for; 

the eyes of the Lord your God are continually on it 

from the beginning of the year 

to its end

(Deuteronomy 11:11-12).

     On the first day of each new year, I read this Scripture passage. It is a reminder that another year has arrived which will hold seasons of days. It seems a new beginning, a fresh slate for hopes and dreams; promises fulfilled. I want to take possession of what God has for me and at the same time, I want what He has for me to be very very good!

In the days leading up to the new year, 

as I am in the boat crossing the Jordan 

and leaving the shoreline of the year past, 

I ponder the days of the old year. I extract its highlights and if possible, peruse my daily journal entries to be reminded of the cries of my heart and the joys of my heart that I recorded so I’d not forget them. 

Some of these times stand out without going back to their written remembrances. 

In recall, through the written words, 

in the moments that they occurred, 

when all was fresh in the unknowing of what was to come, 

in the wondering, 

in the despairing,

in the prayers typed out,

in Scriptures that brought hope,

in the rejoicing of times of delight,

I am grateful I took time to record the days.

Yes, there definitely were mountains and there definitely were valleys. There were also the days where life went on as is usual with the basic tasks that each of us need to accomplish.

 I came through them all! 

It is important to remember this reality because I will face joys and challenges in the year ahead. 

Knowing what lies behind, I garner up confidence walking into the unknowns of the new days to come. I will walk with the awareness of God’s faithfulness to me during all of my past days. 

He guided me then. 

He will guide me with the fresh steps I take 

if I choose to let him.

True, the Lord cares about the land and the year, but He cares about me more. 

His presence is steadfast. 

His eyes are continually on me. 

He desires me to cooperate with him. 

He accompanies me with his grace.

I need not dwell on each day of the whole new year. That would be overwhelming. God sees those days ahead. I release them into his hands. I commit to accepting his grace as I live out one day at a time. 

Will I discover it to be a mountain day

 or a valley day 

or somewhere in between? 

Maybe it will be a day comprised of all three!

As I read this Scripture, I know that I will have questions as some of my days emerge.

 That is alright. 

The seasons from my other years 

have helped me to recognize 

that my not- knowing is 

simply part of God’s all-knowing. 

He sees the land’s obstacles. 

      I trust and follow his lead. 

    I become a seasoned traveler by 

choosing to accept 

both the mountain and the valley days. 

Each nourishes me as I drink the rain from heaven,

God’s presence itself.

Prayer

 Lord, you are my constant comforter 

as I face the seasons of my life 

and the unknowns of each new day. 

Thank you for being 

my hope, 

my trust, 

and my guide 

as I treasure You in each moment.

Amen.

Mt. Baker

as viewed from 

Mt. Constitution

Orcas Island, Washington

Photo by Lynn