In This Broken Jar of Clay

It's on nights like these that I think the most deeply and critically, pouring over every detail of my life and ponder over both the good and the bad. I'm never sure what the purpose of these nights are for, or why they even happen so frequently. But, I know that every time these nights come the result is always the same: I am left standing at a crossroad.

All my life I've felt like I've been walking along a tightrope - between people, myself, and even God at times. I've always felt like one side was their or my own expectations, desires, and pressures while the other side was my own crushing fear of failing them all miserably. This nauseating vertigo has been with me since childhood, the only difference has been that I got used to it and my feet are more balanced these days.

If I'm being honest, these past few weeks have been difficult; I've struggled with my own uncertainties of the future as well as with a few friendships - some I'm not sure how to repair or begin again; I've struggled to set aside time for and with God, despite being in my final stretch of leadership and wanting to finish well; I've struggled to let my anxieties go and reward myself with God's peace because it's the thing I know how to handle best.

All of this ... is honestly hard to share (at times). It's easy to reveal the inward parts of yourself when everything is manageably "okay" and the lessons from a tough season have been learned, but when the storm rises highest and the valleys grow the lowest and the silence becomes deafening ... THAT is when reality is hardest to deal with and share. And man ... I am not exactly the most willing to share. Sometimes I worry that when I share something real with someone they will simply ignore me and treat my problem like all real world problems - momentarily concerned and then instantly forgotten.

But this week, as I pour my heart out in prayer and poetry and draw nearer to the light, truth, and restorative power of God's Word, I am reminded of this: even in the midst of great struggle, grief, and disappointment I am not overlooked nor forgotten by the One Who made me in His hands; I am not some discarded piece of clay that was too difficult for man's hands to deal with, no, I am a created being made in the image of God. Every part of me is made with intention and purpose - even the darkest, greatest, and most mundane aspects of who I am; therefore, nothing about me is made in vain. I am a worthy of being cared for and loved - deeply, even to the point of death on a cross.

As I ponder this great and mystifying truth tonight, I am led to remembering 2 Corinthians 4:7-12:

"Now we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this surpassingly great power is from God and not from us. We are pressed on all sides, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always consigned to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our mortal bodies. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you."

Though there are many things that must come to an end both in and around me, I am still grateful that God's perseverant and transformative life is still found in and around this jar of clay.