With Covid-19 and people we know dying because of it, we're now wondering:
Will I be next?
That's evidence. We are but dust! The cremation chamber testifies. The maggots bear witness.
Humbling, huh. To realize my life is not mine. Nor mine to keep. Or tear away from Him who formed me.
He is the Potter. I am but clay.
Yet no ordinary clay. We're His piece de resistance. His crowning glory. We're wonderful dust, if you please.
Psalm 139:141: "I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made..."
So instead of fleeing away from Him, cleave to Him. Perishable-me am nothing apart from my Maker. Jesus is the Potter. I am the clay. How could I even imagine that my life is my own or mine to rule? Or mine to waste away. Or mine to do as I pretty please.
Or that I'd still have breath tomorrow.
Because if He shaped you, HE WILL see you through. Apart from being your Potter, He is your Savior and Lord. But first, gorgeous clay-you-and-me must yield.
All He asks is your brokenness. A contrite heart He will not deny.
We hear of so many friends perishing these days, many of them still young. But the sooner we accept that we do have an expiry date, stamped by our wise Manufacturer, the lighter life becomes. Till that day comes, we try to be good servants in various ways.
ReplyDeleteNever have I felt so vulnerable than now, knowing that with just one exposure, death could be at my door. O Lord, only by your grace can we survive.
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