In The Kiln

There is a beautiful tea cup that lives in my cupboard and her story is incredible.
Her life starts as a little ball of clay. The potter began to form her into some kind of an unknown shape and she says she doesn't remember much, but with his hands the man slowly shaped her into a cup. He then placed her in the kiln so she would harden into her form. She cried when he placed her inside and closed the lid. When the firing was done he pulled her out and began to smooth the bumps and carve out the edgy lines. She continued to cry from the pain of the sanding and carving, begging him to stop and let her be. Instead the potter continued to work on her. After he finished removing the lines and bumps he placed her back in the kiln again. This time it was worse than before. She told the potter she would do anything, and with her gray, dusty body she told him she liked the way she was and didn't want to change. The potter held her and told her that he wasn't finished, but when he was she would understand. After the second firing the potter opened the lid and to his surprise the small teacup was happy. She looked at her self and thought she was beautiful, without any lines and bumps, was ready to be used. But the potter told her that there were a few more things he had to do. Before long he picked up a brush, dipped it in the cold paint and began to wrap her in beautiful designs of all different colors. She shivered with the touch of the paint and felt cut off from the warmth surrounding her. After the paint had dried she began to feel the heat return and when she looked at herself she was in awe! Before she could take another look she realized that darkness had surrounded her and once again she found herself in the kiln. She cried and wondered why the potter had done this to her yet again. After what seemed like forever the lid was lifted and she saw the sun. By this time she was exhausted from crying she didn't even have the strength to look at herself. The potter set her down and told her that now he was finished. When she looked at herself, she couldn't believe it was actually her. The colors were so bright the details were so defined. She was beautiful. Could this really be me? She thought. Some time later she was bought for a price that was very high but most certainly worth it. She is the most beautiful teacup in the cupboard. Perfect.

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This summer, after I returned from India, the realities of my life hit me hard. The things I tried to free myself from by running away suddenly came crashing down like a heavy weight. I wasn't prepared like I thought I would be.
I had a lot of time to meditate in India and prepare for the return back to facing these giants. I prayed a prayer that I thought would really make me strong. That would some how make it easier to face them. It was this:

God, I am your daughter. You are the potter and I am the clay. Mold me into the woman you need me to be.

With this prayer I thought God would give me

the power, the wisdom, the strength

to free myself... but I was wrong.

With this prayer -- I made a great sacrifice. I offered myself to His will. And not just once, but EVERYDAY. I continued this prayer when I made my way back to camp, where I though it would beat the giants I had to face. Instead it seemed to work for a little while. But eventually the giants came out to fight. I've been in the kiln for a little while now, waiting for the Potter to pull me out and tell me He's finished, look at me with a huge smile, and say, "Okay, my daughter. Now you are perfect. Now you are finished." But the lid doesn't open.

I have begun to realize that I try too much to understand and predict what my potter is doing with me. I think I know when the dark kiln is opening for me or when the carving and sanding are coming... but truth is that I don't know. I can't predict when I'm going to be cold, in pain, or alone. Or when I'll feel warm, pain free, or beautiful. All I can do is continue my prayer and TRUST that He is doing good and molding me into the woman He needs me to be.