Last week my wife and I attended a pottery show about an hour north of where we live. The things we saw there were unbelievably beautiful — cups and plates and covered dishes and so many forms and colors. They were a joy and a wonder to behold.
Over in one corner of the main display room, a master craftsman was busy with his potter’s wheel, forming a lifeless lump of clay into a thing of beauty. Every time he touched the thing, it would bend to his careful caress — first getting taller, then adding shape, then elegance, then a smooth surface — and so on. Bit by bit, it became one of his many creations, each with it’s own form and expression, but all with the unmistakable stamp of the master’s touch.
When dipped and fired, it would become even more beautiful — as only a master craftsman can manage. Oh, to put myself in such capable hands, to be formed with such care by one who has such wonderful designs for mere clay!