clay.

These days, it seems like God is teaching me one lesson after another; I'm learning more during this phase of my walk with Him than ever before. One of the things He has been speaking to me about is learning how to be content with the here and now. See, by nature, I tend to be somewhat of a daydreaming idealist. I can waste so much time fantasizing about my "perfect" world that, as a result, I often become disenchanted with the hand I've been dealt. I miss out on appreciating what's already in front of my face because I'm so focused on what's not.

My current object of discontentment is...me. Do you ever have those moments where you're just so sick of yourself? Well, I've been having one of those moments for weeks now: 'I wish I had a sense of humor like so-and-so. If only I was more friendly and outgoing. Why can't I just have higher cheekbones or less gray hairs or smaller hips? Is that really too much to ask for?' On and on it goes; it's true, what they say--that we are our own worst enemies.

Anyway, tonight, I was sitting on the porch, lamenting about all that's "wrong" with me to God, and He led me to Isaiah 64.8:
Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.

'Okay, God,' I thought. 'I get it. I'm the clay, buuuuut....why can't I be the clay who never loses her temper, who always keeps her cool and has everything together? Can't I be the clay that's a size 2, the one who has a perfect complexion and is always smiling? [Insert name here] has clay that's so much smarter/funnier/prettier than mine; why can't I have that kind?'
(I should say here that I can also be a pretty slow learner...)

Then I discovered Romans 9.20.
But who are you...to talk back to God? Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, 'Why did you make me like this?'

Yikes. And it doesn't stop there. Isaiah 45.9:
Woe to him who quarrels with his maker..Does the clay say to the potter, 'What are you making?'

Basically, I was put in my place. I was acting like I thought I could be a better potter than God could, and He wasn't having it. So, lesson learned: I'm clay.

And that's alright, because I'm being molded by the most creative, talented, perfect Potter there is.