Tag: God is Working

  • He Knows the Way

    He Knows the Way

    “Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him: On the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him: But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” ~Job 23:8-10~

    At 35,000 feet, it is nearly impossible to sense how quickly an airplane is moving.

    On my return flight from San Juan, I sat in an aisle seat while nearly every window shade around me remained closed. I knew we were traveling generally north and northwest toward Atlanta, but I could not see the ocean beneath us. I could not watch the clouds pass. I could not identify a coastline, city, or landmark.

    There was no visible evidence of our speed, progress, or direction.

    From inside the darkened cabin, we could have been flying more than five hundred miles per hour or sitting completely still. Unless I looked at the flight tracker, I had no way of knowing where we were, how far we had traveled, or how much farther remained.

    Yet I was not empty-handed.

    I was returning with memories of people I love, photographs of places I had seen, roads I had walked, and lessons I did not want to forget. I carried mementos of where I had been and memories of those who had walked beside me.

    But none of them could show me the way ahead.

    There are seasons when faith feels much the same.

    We can remember what God has done before. We can look back at prayers He answered, doors He opened, and places where His hand was unmistakable. We carry photographs in our minds and testimonies in our hearts.

    But memories of yesterday do not always provide a map for tomorrow.

    Sometimes the shades are closed.

    We cannot see where we are going. We cannot sense progress. We may feel changes taking place without understanding where they are leading. Something shifts. The aircraft banks. A familiar season begins to turn, but we cannot identify the new direction.

    We know we are no longer where we were, but we have not yet arrived where we are going.

    Job understood that disorientation.

    He looked forward, but God did not appear to be there. He looked backward and could not perceive Him. He searched to the left, where he knew God was working, but could not behold Him. He looked to the right, and God remained hidden.

    Every direction Job searched seemed empty.

    Yet notice what Job said about the left hand:

    “Where he doth work.”

    Job could not see God, but he still acknowledged that God was working.

    That is faith in its most honest form. It does not pretend the window is open when it is closed. It does not deny the darkness, disguise the uncertainty, or claim to understand a route that remains hidden.

    Faith simply refuses to interpret limited visibility as divine absence.

    Job could not perceive God—but God had not lost sight of Job.

    “But he knoweth the way that I take.”

    Job did not know the way, but God did.

    Job could not see the route, but God could.

    Job could not identify his present location or understand the purpose of the journey, but heaven had not misplaced him.

    The same is true for us.

    There will be times when we cannot see what God is doing. We may not understand why a familiar path changed, why a door closed, why a season ended, or why the next destination has not yet appeared. We may feel the turn long before we understand the direction.

    But our inability to see the route never means the Pilot has lost it.

    God does not need us to understand the flight plan in order to complete it. He sees beyond the closed shade. He knows our present position, the conditions ahead, and the destination He has appointed.

    The silence does not mean He has left the cockpit.

    The darkness does not mean the aircraft has stopped moving.

    And the absence of visible landmarks does not mean we are lost.

    You may not know where this season is taking you. You may look forward, backward, left, and right without finding the answers you desperately want.

    But God knows the way that you take.

    For now, that may have to be enough.

    And faith says that it is.

    Final Word:

    When I cannot see the way ahead, I can still trust the One who already knows it.

  • The Potters Wheel

    The Potters Wheel

    Primary Text: Jeremiah 18:1–6

    “Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words.” — Jeremiah 18:2

    When I was a kid, I had the opportunity to spend time at Philbrook Art Museum in Tulsa participating in art programs that introduced us to Native American crafts and traditions. One of the projects was pottery.

    I wasn’t very good at it.

    My attempts usually looked more like lopsided bowls than useful vessels.

    But while my own efforts left much to be desired, I never forgot watching an experienced potter at work.

    Years later, when I read Jeremiah 18, those memories came rushing back.

    God didn’t send Jeremiah to a palace or a battlefield to teach him one of Scripture’s greatest lessons. He sent him to a workshop.

    “Go to the potter’s house.”

    The lesson wouldn’t come through a sermon.

    It would come through observation.

    Sometimes God teaches us the same way.

    Instead of immediately answering our questions, He simply says, “Watch.”

    Watch how I work.

    Watch what I do.

    Watch the Potter.

    The first thing I remember about the process was how important it was to center the clay.

    Nothing else happened until that was right.

    If the clay wasn’t perfectly centered on the wheel, everything that followed would be uneven. The faster the wheel turned, the more obvious the wobble became. No amount of skill could compensate for clay that wasn’t centered.

    Life works much the same way.

    When life speeds up, whatever sits at the center of our hearts is revealed.

    Responsibilities increase.

    Schedules become full.

    Unexpected trials appear.

    Pressure mounts.

    Those seasons don’t usually create our instability. They expose it.

    Before God shapes our lives, He centers our hearts.

    Jesus said, “Seek first the kingdom of God.”

    The writer of Hebrews tells us to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.

    Only when Christ occupies the center can everything else begin taking its proper place.

    Then came the pressure.

    Watching the potter’s hands was fascinating.

    To someone unfamiliar with pottery, the process almost looks harsh.

    The hands press firmly.

    They squeeze.

    They pull.

    They stretch.

    Yet every movement has purpose.

    Nothing is random.

    One hand supports the outside while the other shapes from within.

    Remove either hand, and the vessel collapses.

    How often is that exactly how God works in our lives?

    We notice the pressures around us—the disappointments, the delays, the hardships, the uncertainties.

    What we often fail to recognize is the quieter work taking place within us.

    While circumstances shape our character externally, the Holy Spirit is transforming our hearts internally.

    God is working from both sides at once.

    The pressure isn’t punishment.

    It’s preparation.

    I also remember the water.

    Clay without water quickly becomes stiff and brittle.

    Push too hard, and it cracks.

    Add too much water, and it loses its strength altogether.

    The potter constantly adds just enough to keep the clay workable.

    What a beautiful picture of God’s grace.

    He knows exactly when our hearts need softening.

    He comforts us without making us complacent.

    He strengthens us without making us hard.

    His grace is never excessive.

    It is always sufficient.

    Perhaps the greatest lesson, however, is this:

    The clay never shaped itself.

    Its responsibility was not to decide what kind of vessel it wanted to become.

    Its responsibility was simply to remain in the potter’s hands.

    That runs completely contrary to our culture.

    We want control.

    We want to choose the timing.

    We want to determine the outcome.

    We even try to tell God what our lives should become.

    But clay has never instructed the potter.

    It simply yields.

    Jeremiah watched as something unexpected happened.

    The vessel became marred in the potter’s hand.

    The clay resisted.

    The shape was spoiled.

    Yet the potter didn’t throw it away.

    He didn’t become frustrated.

    He didn’t walk away from the wheel.

    Scripture says, “So he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.”

    Those words have always moved me.

    He made it again.

    Not repaired.

    Not patched.

    Remade.

    That is the story of redemption.

    Every one of us has been marred by sin.

    Every one of us has failed to become what we were created to be.

    Yet our failures do not surprise the Potter.

    He is able to begin again.

    He reshapes what has been broken.

    He restores what has been damaged.

    He creates something beautiful where we expected only disappointment.

    Sometimes people say they feel like life is going in circles.

    Perhaps you’ve felt that way.

    The same struggles.

    The same prayers.

    The same waiting.

    The same unanswered questions.

    May I offer another perspective?

    Perhaps you’re not going in circles.

    Perhaps you’re still on the wheel.

    The wheel keeps turning because the vessel isn’t finished.

    Every rotation places another part of our lives beneath the Potter’s hands.

    Every season brings another opportunity for Him to remove what doesn’t belong and strengthen what does.

    The clay never sees what the Potter sees.

    The clay feels the pressure.

    The Potter sees the finished vessel.

    The clay experiences the spinning.

    The Potter sees the purpose.

    The clay only knows today.

    The Potter already sees what tomorrow will require.

    That is why faith is ultimately trust.

    Not trust in the wheel.

    Not trust in the process.

    Trust in the One whose hands never leave the clay.

    If your life feels uncertain today…

    if the pressure seems greater than you expected…

    if the wheel seems to keep turning without end…

    don’t mistake movement for abandonment.

    The Potter is still at work.

    And the fact that His hands are still shaping you is evidence that He is not finished yet.