All I hope to do

I want to sit at your feet, drink from the cup in your hands, lean back against you and breath, feel your heart beat. This love is so deep, it's more than I can stand, I melt in your peace, it's overwhelming.

We sing these words at church and if you can visualize yourself, with Jesus, doing those intimate things--being close, feeling comfort, drinking in His strength & gentleness...it's wonderful. Jesus never promised that the life of a follower would be easy, but then again, the lives of those who aren't followers aren't easy, either. We tend to think that just because we're on team "J" (for Jesus), our lives are suddenly going to be a cakewalk. But that doesn't happen--much to our dismay. Instead, we go through the Refiners fire, so He can burn off all the dross, so that our faces will reflect His glory. "And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit," (2 Corinthians 3:18). This is one of my friend's favorite scriptures. She said, "All I hope to do is to reflect the Lord's glory."

And how do we get to that point? By being stretched, by being thrown in the fire, and then washed in the water, and then being worked some more. When we feel like we have been stretched and remolded too much, we cry out for Him to stop. "Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand," (Isaiah 64:8). We have to be worked and shaped and molded and put through the fire, but pulled out just at the right moment--and only the Potter knows the moment--to make us into the beautiful vessels He is creating us to be, so that we truly can reflect His glory.

Thank you, Lord, that you are the Potter. With your hands, you mold us. You dip us in Holy water to refresh us, and immediately, you go back to working on us. With your thumbs, you smooth out the lumps. With your hands, you mold us into your masterpiece. With the perfect amount of heat and timing, you allow the impurities to be burned out of us, to make us stronger. But Lord, you don't put us into the fire and walk away. No, you stay and watch. You cry when we cry. You hurt when we hurt. But, you laugh when we laugh. You pull us out of the fire at the perfect time--in the instant the last of the impurities has left us, but just before we crack and break into a million pieces of dust. Thank you, Lord, for your perfect timing. And thank you, also, for the times you comfort us and hold us close. Thank you for allowing us to sit at your feet, lean back against you and breath, just so that we can feel your heart beat. Thank you for holding us close, even when we don't feel or see your arms around us. In Jesus' Name, Amen.