The Story of the Clay Pot

Rephrased from the original     by Gladys Mary Talbot

It was a sunny and warm day along the bank of the river.

The clay had been through so many seasons—fall, winter, spring, summer—year after year.

The clay wished for something new.

Then one day, something “new” happened. The clay heard the sound of a wheelbarrow and footsteps.

Then it felt a sharp shovel being pushed deep into it. The shovel cut it from all the other clay.

It was lifted up and dropped into the wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow bumped across a field. Then the wheelbarrow was pushed into a building.

The clay felt the sharp shovel again, —as the clay was lifted and dropped onto a workbench.

What was happening ?

A man put his hands in the clay and began to push, and pull, and squeeze. He rolled the clay, and then made it flat.

He rolled it into a ball, and made it flat again.

The clay thought–”What was the reason for all this pushing and squeezing? Why did the clay did to have all this happen to it?”

All of this pushing and squeezing made the clay soft—so it could bend and be shaped.

The man put the soft clay on another flat wheel. Slowly the wheel began to turn. The man began to bend the clay with his hands.

The man was careful, and gentle, but firm and strong —he began to bend the clay into a shape.

Sometimes the man took a sharp tool and he scraped the clay to make it smooth of all bumps. This did not feel good. Why was this needed?

The wheel stopped. The clay was glad.

This had been a “new” experience to be sure.

It was not an experience that felt good. It was painful.

What was the reason for it?

It was no longer just a lump of clay, but it was a shaped vessel. What was it to be used for?

After being pushed and squeezed and scraped — it must be for a special reason. It must be for a great fine purpose.

Then the clay felt a sharp flat piece of metal go under it, and it was lifted up, and was put on a window sill where it was to dry in the air.

Well, thought the clay—I’m finished. It began to think of its future. What would it be used for?

As the days passed, the clay became dry, and more solid.

The man came over and pick it up and looked it over carefully. Then he put it back on the sill to dry some more.

The clay began to think of what could be in its future.

Would it be put in a rich person’s house to be used in a place of honor?

Would it be in a home to be used everyday for everyday things?

The day came when the man came and took the clay from the window. He carried it outside and put it on the ground.

He picked up the shovel and got some dirt and then dropped the dirt into the clay.

The clay was shocked ! What just happened ?

Then understanding came—the clay was not a fancy vessel for a rich table. The clay was not a vessel to be loved and used everyday. The clay was common flower pot ! How disappointing !

It had hoped for such fine things. Dreams of being seen and admired. Dreams of being used and appreciated.

It had hoped for such wonderful things. Flower pots were ordinary. Common. Flower pots did not do much of anything.

Then the man came and put a ugly, brown, ball of something in the dirt—right in the heart of the pot.

The man carried the clay pot to the edge of the yard. He poured water into the dirt, then walked away.

Except for when the man came to water—the pot was alone.

Waiting, wondering, discouraged,—dreams of big things broken.

It noticed that there was a stirring within its heart. Something was growing.

The man came to look and watch at what grew.

After some weeks the man came and took the pot and put it in a small truck.

It was a short ride. Then the pot was lifted out and carried into a white building.

An organ was playing. A church ! The clay pot was embarrassed—it was full of dirt. It was just a flower pot.

The man carried it down to the front of the church where everyone would see it ! The clay pot was embarrassed–it was so plain, and ugly. So ordinary, and common. Why here ? Why in front of everyone ?

Then the clay pot heard people say–”How lovely !” “I love the smell !”

The clay pot knew they were not talking about it. Why were they saying such things ?

Finally, the clay pot heard someone say, “Oh, what a beautiful lily ! And it smells so good ! “

The man seemed to be talking to the clay pot when he said this Bible verse–”This treasure we have in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power, be of God, and not of us.” II Corinthians 4:7

Then the clay understood. Embarrassment was gone. “Broken dreams” did not matter. It was content.

It was still common, ordinary, maybe “ugly”, but inside its heart was the root of the lily.

The lily grew because the pot held the dirt and water for it to grow. The life of the lily needed a vessel in which to grow.

It did not need a fancy vase for a rich house. It did not need painted plate to eat from.

It needed a plain, vessel to hold dirt, and water.

Everyone looked at the lily—not the clay pot.

This is the way it should be.

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As Christian people we are “vessels” that God has made.

We sometimes have dreams to be used by God in ways that will be important. We dream of doing great things for God.

As the years go along, we feel like we are being pushed and pulled, and squeezed and scraped. It is painful.

All of those painful things that happen to us are shaping us for God’s purpose.

Our hearts are made “soft” and our shape becomes strong and solid.

We wonder what plans God has for us.

Yet our dreams to do great things for God may never happen.

We may think of ourselves and common and ordinary.

But the “Lily of the Valley” (Jesus) lives deep in our heart.

Jesus grows in our vessel. People see Him in our life.

The beauty of Jesus and the perfume of Jesus is in our life because of Jesus’ love in us. Because He loves us–we can show love to others.

This “treasure” we have in us —earthen vessels—the beauty and power is not of us—but belongs to the treasure (Jesus) who lives in us.

People see Jesus in us.

Jesus needs many common ordinary “clay pots” to show Jesus to others.

You are exactly  the kind of  vessel Jesus needs.