I first shared this ten years ago when I was still in the early days of mourning Dominic. Our family was facing the third set of holidays with an empty chair at the table.
Life since then has been full of additional challenges and loss.
I still rebel sometimes at the road I’m asked to walk.
But I am more convinced than ever that when I yield my life and heart to the Master Potter, He will mold me and make me into the likeness of Jesus.
And that’s really who I want to be-even if it hurts.❤
I can’t claim to be satisfied with this life I’m living.
I do not like this path I am forced to walk, this darkness that hides the light, this pain that burrows deep in my bones.
But I can say I’m learning not to fight it.
Sometimes I still pitch a fit.
Sometimes I still yell at the sky, “Where were You?” Sometimes I lie down in the floor and beg for relief. Sometimes I quietly rebel with only a single tear.
Most days though, I get up and give in.
I turn my face to the rising sun and choose to carry on. I submit my heart, again, to the One Who created it.
I don’t struggle.
I don’t fight the facts that greet me.
“I don’t think the way you think.
The way you work isn’t the way I work.”
God’s Decree.
“For as the sky soars high above earth,
so the way I work surpasses the way you work,
and the way I think is beyond the way you think.
Just as rain and snow descend from the skies
and don’t go back until they’ve watered the earth,
Doing their work of making things grow and blossom,
producing seed for farmers and food for the hungry,
So will the words that come out of my mouth
not come back empty-handed.
They’ll do the work I sent them to do,
they’ll complete the assignment I gave them.”Isaiah 55:8-11 MSG
I am not God.
His thoughts are not my thoughts.
His ways are not my ways.
His plans are bigger than me, bigger than my hopes and dreams, bigger than anything I can imagine.
He has created me for His glory-not the other way around.
So I join with thousands who sing:
Have Thine own way, Lord,
Have Thine own way;
Thou art the Potter,
I am the clay.
Mould me and make me
After Thy will,
While I am waiting,
Yielded and still.
Have Thine own way, Lord,
Have Thine own way;
Wounded and weary,
Help me, I pray.
Power, all power,
Surely is Thine,
Touch me and heal me,
Savior divine.
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