Alabaster Jars.

When I expressed interest to learn pottery during my time in Nepal, I received mixed responses- raised eyebrows, laughter and bewilderment. Of all things, why pottery?

" 'Arise, and go down to the potter's house,

and there I will cause you to hear my words.'

-Jeremiah 18:2

So I went, in seeming foolishness and stupidity, at the break of dawn each frosty morning, with a shawl wrapped around my frazzled hair to a potter's house at the outskirts of the city. An interminably long walk, an unpredictable ride on a rickety public bus and a frantic yelp to be let down when I caught sight of the place.

For four days I spent time at the potter's house, learning the ancient art handed down by family tradition in a freezing basement. My teacher was the son of the master potter, and all day we would fashion clay, paint and drink tea. He would talk, and I would listen intently to what he had to say about the art of pottery, and epiphanies would hit me as the clay became moulded in the spinning wheel.

"To be a good potter," he said, "you must know nature of clay. Nature of clay is very important- how much water you need to add, when it will break... all this Good Potter will know."

He put his hands into a huge lump of clay at a corner of the run-down factory and beckoned me to do the same. "You must slap clay like this," he said, "Slap hard, so no air bubbles inside. Or else, pot will break. You must know clay's nature." I smiled, for I thought- If God is our master potter as described in the bible, then how true was what he said, for God, the good potter, knows our natures, inside and out. And as promised, He never gives us more than what we can bear. (1 Cor 10:13)

"To make nice pot, before you start, your clay must be in centre of wheel. Must be centre, exactly, or else no good. Pot no good if not in centre," he said. And then with great dexterity and brute strength, he slapped the mound of clay on the rapidly spinning wheel, moulding it into a hill.

It wasn't easy to adjust the clay to be dead centre of the wheel. When it was even slightly out of place, the clay would spin out of control, and its shape turned out ugly, deformed. It was the first and most pertinent step. Nonetheless, how many of us are able to trust God with what He has in store for us? How many of us reply against our maker, and, looking in envy at others, rail against the way He has made us- in discontentment and anger?

"Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God?

Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?

Hath not the potter power over the clay,

of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?"

-Romans 9:20-21

Likewise, unless we allow ourselves to be in the dead centre of God's will, to trust Him to fashion us into whatever He has in mind for us, how else can we be made beautiful in due time?

Because clay is so soft and malleable, the art of pottery isn't the least bit easy. Many times, I had to throw away the deformed clay as the clay spun out of control at the last moment. Discouragement set in, but not before I was reminded of the importance of yielding to God instead of resisting and to recognise the power and love He has over and for us. For He destroys only because He wishes to refine us to be perfect and useful.

"And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter:

so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.

'Can I not do with you as this potter?' said God. 'Behold, as the clay is in the potter's hand, so are you in my hand..."

Jeremiah 18:4-6

Later, my teacher brought me to his shop upstairs, where the finished ceramic products stood proud, awaiting to be delivered to various countries. From the same lump of clay came different jars, cups, plates, mugs, candleholders and pots. Each one was hand-made, unique, and incomparable. Yet, how often do we wish we were made another kind of vessel, one that was more useful than what we are now? Perhaps we forget, that though there are various vessels of different uses in a house, it is our humility which makes us worthy to be of great use by our master, as we yield ourselves to Him for the very function we were purposed for.

"But who are you, O man, to talk back to God?

Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, 'Why did you make me like this?'

Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?"

-Romans 9:20-21

Sometimes, even I too find it hard to believe, that we are all so different, incomparable, made for different purposes.

"They're beautiful," I said. "What did you do to make them so beautiful?"

" Ah. After moulding, you leave clay to harden in air for few weeks. Then put in biscuit-furnace to fire for 8 hours at 800 degrees Celsius. Take out to cool, paint colour, then put in colour-furnace for many hours again. Final step us put pot into glaze-furnace. Very very hot, but necessary step, you know."

It was a long process, time-consuming and very tedious. One afternoon as we sat in the warm sun to paint, I picked up a saucer which had been put into the kiln. As soon as I touched it, it broke. "Uh oh, why?" I asked.

"Fire not hot enough," said my teacher. "Halfway electricity got cut off, and oven no fire. Not hot enough, so it break."

When I returned to the orphanage to see the children that evening, I shared with them what I had learnt. It was a profound lesson for me- sometimes we just can't understand why God would put us through trials, why a being so good would toss us into the fire at such high heat. What we don't know is that the higher the heat, the stronger we become. Every trial we go through has a purpose, shaping our character in the deepest of ways.

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds,

because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance."

-James 1:2

I know it's been a long time since I last wrote. I took time off from writing to go into my Father's house to listen to Him. For too long I've been taking His clay into my own hands, trying to make something of my own image, my own idols for myself. This trip to Nepal to the potter's house revealed to me so much of my own idolatry and the ways in which I had unconsciously displaced God from my life. Even Kitesong and this space had become idols of their own, clay which I had taken into my own hands. I nearly shut this space down. Every thing which I had thought was pleasing to God I realised was really but an altar unto myself. Every day I learn something of myself which needs to be released to God. Every day I find myself smashing false altars. Today, especially, was rough. Sometimes, you feel like utterly useless clay.

But God has been gracious and quick to forgive. And as I release to Him more and more of my life, refusing to question why He has made me such and such and instead, learning to be content, grateful and secure, I find myself becoming clay, closer and closer to the dead centre of the master potter's wheel, closer and closer to fulfilling the purpose of my life.

Nobody likes to be clay. Nobody likes to be slapped about, thrown in the centre of a crazily spinning wheel and thrown into the furnace. Everybody wants to be the potter. But we forget, only good potters understand perfectly the nature of clay- just like how only our Creator knows us completely. The moulding process, for us, is fraught with uncertainty; the firing process, filled with pain and suffering. Nonetheless, how beautiful it is when we see ourselves as but earthen vessels, filled with the treasure of the excellency of God, willing to be broken to be poured out as pure nard at His feet. (Matthew 26:7-13)

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels,

that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us."

- 2 Corinthians 4:7

So that's where I've been, to the Potter's house.

" 'Arise, and go down to the potter's house,
and there I will cause you to hear my words.' "
-Jeremiah 18:2