contributed by Terri
So I was walking home from work on Friday and stopped by a window of an Olympic pavilion. A man was creating on a pottery wheel. I love watching clay being thrown into something beautiful and useful. I went into the pavilion, for Calabria -- a region in Italy -- and continued to watch the potter. After the potter finished a bowl he asked me through a translator, “Do you want a turn?” Of course I said ‘yes’ and promptly was given instructions. I began to work the clay in my hands and was not really thinking about what I would create. I just wanted to get the feel of the wheel. I figured that whatever I made would be crushed and reformed by the next person to have a turn. So I found myself mostly playing around with the clay and just trying to figure out how to keep my hands still while pushing the non-electric wheel with my foot. I was trying to simply go through the motions of the wheel.
When I was done, the translator told me to come back tomorrow to pick up my piece. I was a bit in shock. There I sat looking at my dilapidated creation, thinking why did I not actually try to create something useful and beautiful.
This brings me to what God has been speaking to me about in the last few days as I continue to give up something I love and am reminded of what Christ gave up for me some 2000 years ago. I like Lent because I am forced to think about all the distractions in my life that come in the middle of my relationship with God. All the things that fill my life with and help contribute to simply going through the motions. I am not content with this simply going through the motions. I want to live my life to its fullest in all that I do.
The best part about clay is that it can always be reused, recreated and reworked before it is fired. This is my plan with my oddly-shaped bowl (or is it an ashtray?). I will be reworking this clay to make something that I can honestly say I have put everything I have into it and I am proud. It may not be as good as the potter’s but it will be the best that I can do. I suppose that is my hope for my life -- that I will continue to allow myself to be reworked into the best that I can be.