“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 …
That was ten years ago now. Here I am, a vision therapist, wife and soon-to-be mother, and I now know that I should have gone to art school and that I should have studied to become an art therapist …
Do I regret that I didn’t take that route?
Yes, in a way, I do.
Can I live with the decisions I did make and choose to endeavor in art now?
Yes, I can. And I plan to.
I am fascinated by the world around me.
I am fascinated by their variations and their movement. I am fascinated by the expressions of these things.
Over the past year while my husband was away for eight months, I spent much time contemplating and creating. I don’t have much to prove my time was well spent. But I know it was the beginnings of discovering myself, my artistic mind, my fascinations with things …
I spent much of my high school years painting at a local studio; I wasn’t taught the medium and the skill; I’d just pick up a canvas and piece of inspiration and whittle away with my brushes. I haven’t been a trained artist. I’ve only been an inspired artist. I’d never make art as a commodity. I’d only make art because I appreciate beauty and its design.
Recently I had the privilege of pressing my hands into clay and throwing on the wheel for the first time. It was so satisfying to work with my hands and to create something purposeful and appealing.
Back to what I mentioned before about being a therapist now and wishing I’d studied art before …
I think I am finding that it is possible for me to blend the two skills of therapy and art, though I may never be professionally trained in the field. I haven’t quite discerned what that would look like for a mother at home and a wife of a firefighter …
In the near future, I plan to take a hiatus from being a Vision Therapist, as it’s intense demanding work and schedule, to focus on becoming a mother and being an attentive wife. My husband and I also intend to buy land in the countryside with a view of the mountains and to build a log lodge-looking abode there.
Will I create more? I certainly intend to.
Will I create successfully? Well, that remains to be seen.
All of life is a journey to know God and how He designed things to have purpose, which is why I have quoted the scripture verse of Isaiah the prophet’s book as a life verse about being clay in the hands of the Potter.
But now, O Lord, you are our Father;
we are the clay, and you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
I am the work of His hands. I am a piece of His artistry. I am a vessel for His good intentions.
In whatever fascination I find or expression I endeavor, I will be reminded that the skills God has given me are beautiful to Him and they are for the purpose of displaying His beauty.
…In the hands of the potter,