Originally published in Distaff, December 2005

Paul says, in 2 Corinthians 4:7, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us." The treasure he's talking about is "the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ" (2 Corinthians 4:4). Paul's image reminds me of where I was right before God called me to homeschool.

Scott and I had been given two precious sons in our first three years of marriage. I had my future all planned during that early season. My plan was to stay at home with my boys until they were of school age, and then, as soon as they were both happily ensconced in school, to begin a pottery business.

You see, I had always loved pottery making. I had learned to do it in high school, and was so interested in it in college that my father bought me an electric wheel for my wedding present! Later, Scott and I acquired a used kiln, so as my younger boy was turning one year old, I was happily dreaming of opening my own pottery shop, to the glory of God.

I planned to make evangelistic pottery. I had learned to make "Jesus bowls" while in college. These were of my own design, and were candles of sorts, intended as dinner table centerpieces. Made of clay, of course, and fairly small and low, and hand-thrown, each one was intended to be filled with water and a floating wick. As with a Halloween pumpkin, on one side of each bowl, I carved out various shapes: in one a Christian fish sign, or in another, a cross, or perhaps the word "Jesus." When the floating wick was lit, the light shone through the carved opening, and sent a Christian message: "You, too, can be an earthenware pot with the light of the glory of Christ shining out of you!" At least, that was what I wanted it to say.

Even back then I found so many parallels between pottery and the Christian life. Let me share a few with you.

God had such different plans for me than I had for myself in those early days. The "wedging" process began when I discovered that I was unexpectedly pregnant with my third child (who was born on our fourth anniversary). When I was about at half-term, my married, but childless friend, bounced excitedly into my kitchen one afternoon and told me, "I've found it! I've found the answer! It's homeschooling." As she explained what homeschooling was, I was not an early acceptor. After all, I had my plans made about how I intended to glorify God.

Slowly, carefully, and surely, the Master Potter wedged out my plans, my dreams of grandeur, and my preferences. As events unfolded, my desires changed and I became more and more pliable in His hands. He placed me on His wheel, and used His skill to center me, open me to new possibilities for my life (giving me two more children so that I had five under the age of seven and then our precious baby girl three years after that, while in law school), raise my walls and shape me (through the ministry of His church and other fellow pilgrims in my life) and then to fill me as I emptied myself. He fired me in the kiln of trials so that I got stronger, and never, ever let me fall to shatter on the ground.

Well, twenty years later, here I am. I never did open that pottery shop; I never did glorify God through making and selling Jesus bowls. Instead, I poured myself out by raising and homeschooling my six children with my whole heart. As I have sought to submit myself to the Master Potter, I have only become more and more aware of my clay-like nature: how truly humble I am in myself in terms of any abilities, strengths, or personal dignity. So much of homeschooling is done out of the limelight, where only God sees. So much of it seems to involve confusion, and struggle, and perseverance, and faith. At least, that's how it always seemed to me.

But there is this truth: within my jar of clay, all those years, there did burn a flame. It was the knowledge of the glory of God. As earthen as I was -- weak, humble, fragile, not valuable in myself, common, mere dirt in the eyes of most people -- I contained a precious treasure. I was not glorious, but the treasure was priceless. And, as God worked, it began to shine out of me just as my Jesus-bowl candles were intended to shine. When you look at a Jesus bowl, it's not the bowl you notice; it's the light.

So, dear sister, if you are a Christian, you, too, are -- truly -- an earthen vessel. This is right; this is good. It has an eternal purpose: "to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us." As He, the Master Potter, spins you and presses you, your life is not out of control. As you look around and don't seem to see progress, or seem to see nothing but your faults, He is working -- oh so intently -- to make of you a vessel for honorable use.

Know what? This is true of your children, as well. They, too, if they belong to Christ, are vessels who are just beginning the process. May I encourage you? See them as clay, but see them as unfinished vessels in the Master's hand and be both encouraged and strengthened as you purpose to be a worthy apprentice in the Potter's shop. Attempt to strengthen and encourage them that God is at work. Point out evidences of grace in their lives, show them that the process is a sure and steady one, and look for ways to pour into them, over and over, the knowledge of the glorious gospel of Christ!