He is the Potter, I am the Clay, and a Couch


Isaiah 64:8 – “And yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay and You are the Potter. We are all formed by Your hand.”

My Bestie and I bought our family’s new home in July. It has most certainly been an “interesting” adventure we’ve gotten ourselves into. Since this summer, the property directly across the street from us has also been inhabited by a new family. (I must admit, I still haven’t gone over to introduce myself yet. I’m kind of a hermit in my personal life.) Well, these poor folks must think they’ve moved in across from furniture smugglers or SOMETHING! I can laugh about it now, but I probably wouldn’t have had an ounce of chuckle for you a month ago. We’ve practically run the entire Bay Area Craig’s List out of our house. I’m eclectic. My family is unique. Our home is hodge-podgity.

So, He is the Potter. Round and round and round on His wheel… >Smack!< Do-over. Round and round and round on His wheel… >Smack!< Do-over. Round and round……… Ah-haaaa! That is exactly right. Perfect in design. Still flawed in spirit, but workable. Malleable. Useful. Beautiful.

I love how the verse says “And yet…” It implies that all regards considered, we are still in His hands. His perfect vision for our lives in mind at all times. He is both yesterday and tomorrow. Wow.

This weekend it decided to rain. If you’re not familiar with the weather in my neck of the woods, allow me to enlighten you. If you don’t like it, give it half an hour. This was also the same weekend I decided to post another sofa-esque piece of furniture online for sale. Delivery promised upon receipt of payment from sale. Thursday evening I had promised the new owner of our “old” piece (that we’ve had for about three months) delivery after Bestie got home from work. We got the Littles loaded up into the truck, the diaper bag, the bottle, two juice cups, snacks, water bottles for Bestie and Me, and a partridge in a pear tree. Bestie then flipped down the tailgate, and we walked into the house to load up said piece of furniture. Cue the neighbors opening their garage door to hang out for a bit. (I think I waved, maybe.) We carried the couch the twenty feet out to the truck and wouldn’t you just know it started raining! “Well THIS is just AWESOME!!!” In the house went the couch. Bestie back out to the truck, and Mommy ran back in to lock up the house. Not-So-Bestie decided to lock the doors to the truck, because he’s so darn cute and funny. We went out to eat instead. A new barbecue joint, Mommy looking like a drowned rat. Friday night’s delivery attempt was a success! Again, cue the neighbors outside… playing basketball in the driveway… watching our whole sideshow all over, like Groundhog Day.

He is the Potter, I am the clay…. Round and round and round.

Saturday evening I was able to contact a few people to go and look at “new” couches, so we loaded the gear and Littles back into the truck. Beautiful day! All was most certainly well with my world. We drove the seventeen miles to the first location. It was “meh” at best. Back into the truck. Four miles down the road. Wait! They live on the SECOND floor?!?!?! Oh, I don’t know about this! Bestie parked the truck and I went inside alone to either yay or nay it. I couldn’t help but notice the clouds starting to roll in. “Lord, please please please not right now. Please!” Into this Lithuanian woman’s apartment and there beset the most beautiful lusciously plush olive green rouched velvet sofa I’ve ever seen. HALLELUJAH!!! But, still on the second floor. She wouldn’t come down on price but offered to help bring it downstairs. Fine.by.me. They loaded it into the truck, huffing and puffing all the while. I grabbed the rope, crammed the cushions into the cab of the truck (the Littles played “fort” all the way home) and tied that beautiful piece of delicious smoothness down into the bed as quickly as my fingers would fly.

“And yet…”

Less than five minutes from home it began to drizzle. “Lord! NoOoOoOoooooo!!!!” (Anyone else talk to God like this?)

I always carry scissors in both vehicles. I read a horror story about a child strangling on a seatbelt once and well, now we both have scissors. The scissors were out and ready to go. As soon as we got home I would viciously cut through the rope and we would haul tail to get this job done. Once and for all. We pulled into our driveway. Cue the neighbors garage door opening. Just as quickly as it started, the rain stopped. Seriously?! “Thank you Father. I am blessed. I am listening.” We got everyone unbuckled and into the house and set back out to bring our newest purchase inside. Yes, the neighbors were definitely watching.

The sofa was inside and so were we, safe and sound. Out of nowhere the house flashed and a boom of thunder cracked somewhere very close by. Within minutes the rain against the house sounded more like an old dishwasher running. Deep breaths.

You see, this beautiful new addition to our family’s home is a lot like myself, or how I think Isaiah meant to convey the message of the clay and the Potter. Back and forth, back and forth. Round and round. Round and round. To have the right piece, the right setting, the right texture, color, size, and shape. It took a LOT from Craig’s List. Multiple transactions. Frustration. Crazy weather patterns. Everyone’s schedules correlating. A budget and a product within the boundaries of a means. This beautiful olive green velvet sofa, it’s me. It’s where it belongs. It’s where it’s celebrated. It’s where it’s loved. It’s where it’s appreciated. It’s where it can serve it’s true purpose. It’s where it’s beauty can shine. It’s where it can bring joy to many.

Yes, this too, this couch. Even so simple, is in His Whisper. If only we can stop to see, and to listen with our hearts. Now, what am I going to do about those neighbors???


“Surely Your goodness and mercy will cover me. All the days of my life, they cover me. What if we really lived like that?” ~ Jason Upton


(Seriously, isn’t it just loverly? Ahhhh.)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s