The Potter and the Clay

Isaiah 64:8 “Yet Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hands.”

Being a student requires vulnerability and messy thoughts that go nowhere and everywhere. I recently started taking pottery classes and as of the writing of this post, I have attended two classes. It is difficult to share these thoughts and I question whether I need to be an expert before sharing my mind. Why do I have to dive deep into research before stating my opinion? While I feel that there is value in knowing and being educated, there is also value in being a student and sharing a student’s perspective on the journey to knowing. I present to you some of these messy thoughts on pottery from a student’s perspective.

It was a busy Monday night, and the studio was abuzz with students finding their rooms for class. Some were new with glazed-over eyes and faces that looked like they wanted to make friends, and others were more familiar with the proceedings who walked confidently and pounded clay impressively. We sat in a circle in front of our wheels, waiting patiently for instruction. Our first order of business was to wedge the clay that we had bought only an hour ago from the store downstairs. We learned how to cut the clay from the block, and then we crowded around a table to wedge our pieces. “When we wedge the clay, we are getting all the air pockets out of it,” the instructor educated. If there are air pockets in the clay, the molded form may explode under the pressure of the fire when it is later placed in the kiln. Being a person who has emotionally exploded on more occasions that I would like to count, I took note of the damage that could be done. We did a full rotation of the knead-like motions on the clay then headed back to our seats to place on the wheel. Growing up, I had often heard the scripture in Jeremiah 18:1-3 “This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: ‘Go down at once to the potter’s house; there I will reveal my word to you.’ So I (Jeremiah) went down to the potter’s house, and there he was, working away at the wheel.” I thought about how there had been a lot of talk of these verses and how we as people were clay and God was the potter. I reflected on the process of removing impurities from the clay. Growing up it seemed like people always said you had to try hard to do whatever was right and holy. I looked at the clay. I don’t think that clay could rid itself of its own impurities no matter how hard it tried. What it did do was surrender to the process that the Potter was putting it through. I guess it “trusted the process.” Oh, the process. As someone who has spent many years in therapy, I kind of hate that phrase. Mostly because there’s nothing to do other than to “trust.” I cannot articulate the level of frustration that ensues when you just want to do something about your situation or problem and a well-meaning therapist smiles and says “trust the process.” I would say it feels a lot like pressure building inside of you.

We watched the instructor as she “centered” the clay on the wheel. She used the force of her whole body to lean in and press the clay into the wheel. Later, when it was my turn to try, I leaned in with all my might but the clay still wobbled. It looked like the wheel was taking my clay for a ride. The wheel was spinning at a good rate right then, and the clay was being taken by the centrifugal force. It reminded me of times past when chaos and tragedy took me this way and that. I imagined that I looked a lot like that clay then. The instructor came around and showed me what it looked like to be centered, for the wheel to go around but the clay to be unmoved by it. How did we get it to remain secure? By having consistent, guided pressure in one spot as the wheel went around. I began to reflect on the things in my life which have made me more centered or at least less wobbly. A couple of years ago, I learned about the different types of prayer. I stumbled upon “centering prayer”, and it turned out to be one of the biggest gifts a practice could give. Breathing in and out while focusing on one attribute or goodness of God in a phrase was so grounding and it made me feel so near to His Presence. I imagine Him leaning over the wheel with all the weight of His glory and coming very near to my clay in those moments.

You don’t have capacity to hold anything
if you’re not open.

Next, we each looked for the center of our lumps of circular clay and aimed to put our finger down. With pressure, the clay began to open up. I will admit that this step was particularly anxiety-producing for me. I was afraid if my finger went too deep I would poke a hole in the bottom and end up ruining the structure. I was relieved to see the pot open up with no glaring errors in the form. A couple of years ago, I started having nightmares where I woke up in pools of sweat. Sometimes, I was screaming inside of my head before I woke up. Thanks to therapy, I don’t have nightmares any more, but I still have trauma. And when it’s triggered, I often lie in bed shaking and cold, trying my best to breathe deeply and calm myself down with all the skills I have been taught. It sometimes takes days for me to be able to feel like myself again. These are times where it feels that there is a pressure going deep into my very soul. I used to be frustrated every time the trauma was brought up again, but now I can see I’m in the process of becoming more open. And you don’t have capacity to hold anything if you’re not open. 

Back in the Monday night studio, it was time to pull up the sides. Currently, the clay was open into a small bowl, but the walls needed to be pulled up in order to be able to expand the frame. This proved to be a difficult step for me. I quickly pulled the clay up with lots of pressure only to have it collapse on itself. The instructor reminded me that the wheel needs to make a full rotation before I pull to the next level. I smashed it back down into a lump and started centering again. The second attempt to pull, I ended up going slowly and with not quite as much pressure. This resulted in stable walls centered on a stable base. I have been blessed to have a decent amount of success in my life. I have had a good job and the opportunity to pursue fantastic adventures for which I am very thankful. There are still things that I don’t understand why I don’t have them. Why haven’t I been elevated to a wife and mother? I listen to podcasts, read endless dating advice books, and try to meet people all around me. Why don’t I know exactly what I want to do with the rest of my life? I feel this urgency, like life is slipping away from me and I will never have fully experienced it. But having it all is a lot of pressure, and it’s a lot of pressure for me to think that I need to have it all right now. Applying that kind of pressure too quickly can cause a person to cave in on themselves. “But the jar he was making from the clay became flawed in the potter’s hand, so he made it into another jar, as it seemed right for him to do.” (Jeremiah 18:4) It’s comforting for me, that even when I cave in on myself with all of my unanswered questions and anxious longings, I can begin again with centering and all things become new. 

Nearing the last step is the shaping of the piece. As far as I can tell, this is where the real finesse of the potter comes into play. Pushing with one hand and pulling with another caresses the structure into shape. I felt myself not knowing what I wanted to make of my clay, but I found myself seeing what the clay wanted to naturally do and going with the form that it was falling into. I worked with the clay. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” I feel an anger in the pit of my stomach even as I include this verse, because I feel that so many injustices and griefs in this world have been blithely explained away by “Well, God has a plan.” For me, this ideology turns God into a sneak who hides this master plan away and laughs every time we try to ask Him about it. I don’t believe that’s who God is: I think He’s a God that thinks good thoughts towards me. I think He sees what the clay is naturally forming into and He works with that clay to make a beautiful shape. I think my expected end is to be an open shape, settled in peace, full of capacity to hold love from Him for others. 

Pottery is a messy business. No one comes away from it clean. The business of molding and shaping or being molded and shaped isn’t clean and tidy. It can’t be. It’s not part of the process.