Mold Me

Imagine you are standing on the edge of a rather steep cliff—your back is to the precipice and you are facing a crowd of smiling friends and family.  You are mindful of the fact that you only have 2 or 3 feet between you and a fatal drop.  As you look out at the faces of a known crowd, you glance back occasionally to make sure you aren’t going to fall. 

Then, someone tosses you a ball—obviously intending to play catch.  You catch it successfully and throw it back.  Then another person throws you a ball just as someone else also tosses one your way.  You manage to catch both and return them.  Soon, it’s a constant back and forth exchange with everyone in the crowd.  Often, you are catching three balls at once and quickly throwing them back, all the while glancing at the space you have behind you lest you slip off into oblivion. 

Sound stressful?  Would it still be fun?  Would your irritability level be quite elevated? 

That is how I have felt the last several weeks.  I was already successfully “playing catch” with my husband, my kids, and my friends, when an entire women’s ministry entered the scene and began a friendly game of catch as well.  Add parents, co-workers, teachers, PTA members, orthodontists, coaches, bosses, church members, and the occasional grocery store clerk to equal quite the juggling act. 

Also, someone threw me a puppy.

I felt myself inching backwards dangerously close to falling right off the edge.  I can feel the weight on my heart right now just thinking about it. 

During times like these, it is easy to cry out to the Lord:

Give me strength.

Give me wisdom.

Give me peace (aka zero discomfort).

Give me. 

It’s not wrong to pray for those things.  If anything, it acknowledges our neediness and His power and faithfulness. 

However, somehow in the midst of this crazy time, I heard an invitation to change my prayer from “give me” to “mold me.”

I know there are people who would say, “just walk away.”  Or “Quit catching the balls.”  “You don’t have to be perfect!”  I know all of that and I have been letting quite a few balls drop to be honest. 

BUT, what if the things that are pushing me can be redeemed/used to shape my character?  After all, there are some things I can’t let drop.  But, I can ask Him to help me see His hands catching all my burdens. 

Perhaps the weight I feel is His hand molding patience or long-suffering in me. Maybe these stressors are molding my heart to be more gentle, kind, or faithful. 

When we are barely keeping all balls in the air, and something horrific happens, our default is to cry out “why, God??” But instead, we hear the invitation to ask: “how?”--“How is this being used to mold me?” 

And so, even though not one thing has changed in my week, I am feeling lighter and freer tonight than I have in months.  I feel His presence behind me guarding my foot from slipping.  I hear His loving invitation to lean in and learn.  And I am trying to remember to be mindful of how many times I say “give me” and instead yield to the potter and say “mold me.” 

Isaiah 64:8

But now, O Lord, you are our Father;

    we are the clay, and you are our potter;

    we are all the work of your hand.

Jeremiah 18:4 

And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled 

in the potter's hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, 

as it seemed good to the potter to do.