Sermon Central
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In His Hands Series
Contributed by David Hughes on Jan 15, 2014 (message contributor)
Summary: God knows what He’s doing for all of us. He is the potter and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us, so that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will.
7And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.
21And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; 22And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.
10For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
20Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?
21Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?
WHAT KIND OF CLAY IS UNUSEABLE
1. Clay that is bone dry.
This was clay that at one time was soft and moldable and pliable.
2. The next kind of clay God cannot use is clay that lacks moisture.
Clay that lacks moisture is clay that still exists but can not be used. The clay is just soft enough to exist, but not soft enough to be moldable for the potters use.
3. THE THIRD CLAY GOD CANNOT USE IS CLAY WITH HIDDEN AIR (SIN).
ILL. Let me show you this pot. This pot went through every process just fine. The potter threw it on the wheel and completed the pot.
It looks beautiful, but the final test always tells the potter weather or not the clay was pure.
Only the fire can revival the last defect. Every now and then some clay has hidden air pocket. You cannot see they or feel them.
When the potter puts the clay in to the fire it heats up and the air trapped in between expands and explodes the pot.
Story of the Teacup
There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup. They said, "May we see that? We’ve never seen one quite so beautiful." As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke. "You don’t understand," it said. "I haven’t always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, ’Let me alone’, but he only smiled, ’Not yet.’ "Then I was placed on a spinning wheel," the teacup said, "and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. Stop it! I’m getting dizzy? I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, ’Not yet.’ Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips and he shook his head, ’Not yet.’ Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. ’There, that’s better’, I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. ’Stop it, stop it!’ I cried. he only nodded, ’Not yet.’ Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head saying, ’Not yet.’ Then I knew there wasn’t any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later He handed me a mirror and I couldn’t believe it was me. ’It’s beautiful. I’m beautiful.’ ’I want you to remember, then,’ he said, ’I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you would have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I knew it hurt and was hot and disagreeable in the oven but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad and when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened; you would not have had any color in your life. And if I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.
