“Father, we are the clay, and you are our potter—we are all the work of your hand” (Isa.64:8). “The life of every living thing is in God’s hand, and the breath of every human being” (Job 12:10).
Heavenly Father, I come to you this morning with empty hands, not to grab what isn’t mine, but extended in dependence and surrender. Quite literally, you’ve got the whole world in your hands and you haven’t made me co-sovereign. And I gave up thinking of you as my co-pilot a long time ago.
That’s not to say I don’t crave control over unfinished stories, frayed edges of threadbare relationships, and resolution in matters that remain unsettled and triggerable. I do, Abba, you know I do. At times I want to trade places with you, with you being the clay and me getting to be the potter.
When I’m in “tired-of-waiting” mode and raw with the insecurity of not knowing what is next, I want to grab the pen with your initials on it, and write the next couple of scenes in my life. But, Father, only you are the Author, Middle, and Finisher—not just of our faith, but also of our stories.
When we take matters into our own hands, like Moses, we “take someone out” rather than waiting on you take us out of “Egypt” (Ex. 2:11-12). Or, like Abraham, we create Ishmaels instead of waiting for “Isaac” (Gen.16-17, 21). Or, like Esau, when we’re in a “hot mess,” we too easily settle for the immediate gratification of a bowl of hot stew (Gen.25:29-34). But, hallelujah, working in all things for our good and your glory is your specialty and guarantee. Thank you, Father. Grant us the grace of waiting and trusting. So Very Amen.
