All posts filed under: Pottery

Potter :: Mama

I’ve scrounged up the time -in the business of motherhood and life itself- to throw on my wheel, which is located in a corner of my parents’ basement. They live in the suburbs of this area just six minutes from my place out in the country. Eventually, we have plans of building here on our property a studio for me, one large enough for my work but also for the kids to hang out in. Until then…. I intermittently have opportunities to work in my makeshift studio that butts up to my dad’s office (what he always dreamed of- having his married daughter come back home to work in his office space 😉 ) I’ve been thinking to myself about my work as a potter and my work a mother. I love both jobs. I have a passion for them both. I have a passion for a lot of other things as well such as public speaking, Vision Therapy, brain development, and watercolor painting. But for now, at this stage of my life, I’ve picked …

Steel :: Magnolias

When I first moved to this area five years ago, I knew a couple people but had no history connected to this city in the mountains. Everything was new. My husband and I slowly built friendships with folks in our church community. But then our Heidi suddenly died, and we suddenly had a flock of friends supporting us and carrying us through and knowing us more intimately than anyone ever had… Out of that came my very own Steel Magnolias. Women of a different season and of different experiences who became my safe place, my home away from home, voices of truth, steady and assuring companions. Now and then we take a retreat together or we meet for coffee or we fellowship in a living room for an afternoon. Today we sat around the dining table with lumps of clay, building and creating while sharing our lives together. What special people I’ve been given the privilege of knowing 💙 What sorts of intergenerational relationships do you have? What kinds of activities do you share with …

a Conversation :: Clay to Potter

I said to the Potter, “Why have you made me this way? Why must I be in pain?” I heard in my spirit, “My power is made perfect in your weakness. My shaping is making you a treasured vessel. I am the Potter, and you are the clay. You are the work of My hands.” I wept bitterly and answered, “But I don’t understand. My heart is broken. I will live with this pain, this crack in my vessel, for the rest of my days.” I remembered in my soul the scriptures, “Draw near to Me and I will draw near to you.” I proclaimed in earnest, “You are the Potter. You are Sovereign. You are Elkanah. You are a covenant keeping God. You are righteous in all Your ways. You are for me and not against me. You will not forsake me… …When I am afraid, I will trust in You.” I knew deep in my being that My Creator replied, “You are mine and I love you.”  

Pottery: First Fruits

Well, I’m still dreaming of a white Christmas, so I thought I’d post some pictures of snow 😉 These are actually pictures of the first fruits of my pottery from winter 2014. After Heidi passed, I needed to work with my hands. I love to work with my hands. I especially needed to work when my hands were empty. Kneading, pulling, pressing, shaping clay became my therapy. It was work I could throw myself into in order to understand myself better, understand my Maker better. …O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are the Potter; we are all the work of your hand. -Isaiah 64:8 For years I’d claimed as a life motto that I was clay in God’s hands, that I was being shaped by Him for a good purpose, that I was vessel of His own design. I’d never needed more to have tangible interaction with that deep spiritual meaning than when my identity as a mother changed in an instant. Instead of feeling abandoned by the Divine …

Clay: Sculpted for Purpose

“I am the clay and He is the Potter” … While in high school, I took local college courses; I was mostly focused on completing the fundamental first year academics before transferring to a small Christian liberal arts college, but I took a couple art classes, because I have always loved art and my brain spins creativity constantly. For some strange reason that I don’t remember, I hesitated to sign up for a sculpture class, but my designer/builder brother practically begged me to take the class, knowing that it would broaden my horizons and teach me skills that I didn’t have; I finally agreed within a couple weeks of the fall semester – a decision which merited me a huge brother hug, some of my most treasured “in-my-head” creative moments, and many life-lessons about the world and myself …