Shape Changing.

Our lives as clay in the hands of a Potter means that our shape is in constant change. I have been thinking about this quite a bit as of late. I realized so fully how my shape had been changed after Gracie passed away. For the first time in my life, I realized I didn't know who I was. Things that would have normally 'rolled off my shoulders' would bear me down to the point of knocking me out! I remember going to a play-date at a park with a friend shortly after Gracie passed away. I didn't know many of the moms that would be there, but the 'Nelia pre-Gracie' had no troubles fitting in and making friends.

So off I went with Olivia and Isaiah. I was the first one there - so I started playing with my little ones on the swings. Then slowly the other moms and their healthy babies and toddlers arrived. I was watching them from the other side of the park and just felt as though I did not fit in. I could see them laughing and enjoying that lovely spring day - and I felt like hurling. Literally - I felt sick to my stomach...and experienced what I found out later was a panic attack. I scooped up my 4 and 2 & 1/2 year old and left. By the time I got them in their car seats, it was taking everything in me to keep the tears from raging and that lump in my throat from taking over my windpipe. Once home and the kids were safe with Drew I went up to my room and released all the pent up held back raw emotions. Who was I? Where do I fit? How do I continue life without my baby? How do I enter a conversation where moms are talking about late nights, or the constant diaper changes? Question after question after question.

Looking back now I can see this was the beginning of my greatest re-shaping. I had experienced the pain of the break - Lord only knows. But this was the kneading, the molding and it was so uncomfortable. The knowledge that I would never be the shape I was before brought a pain all of its own. Yet, as I leaned into the pain, leaned into the kneading, I started to realized this new shape was a better fit. I was softer, more patient, and this new shape has given me the gift of living a more missional life, a life that is more heaven minded.

I chose to name the blog "Beautifully Mended" for there came a beauty that was only born from the pain. But in order to be mended you must allow the pain, you must lean into it instead of running away from it. You must allow the Potter the freedom to do as He chooses. There were times when I thought...yep I'm feeling good I am on the verge of the final product here - my shape is looking good. Then out of the blue - whamo! The Potter started again. Yet each time He started again, the clay was softer, more palpable and was ready for the next stage. For this life is in constant motion, as will our shape continue to be.

I chose the word 'mended' carefully because I am not completely healed, nor anywhere near complete. My final shape will be completed the day I meet my Maker face to face. Once I see how perfectly I fit in the hands of the Potter - my final shape will be complete...it will have withstood the fires of hell, refining it to my finished state. Finally my shape will go from being beautifully mended to beautifully healed and perfected. My prayer is that the Potter will look at me His beloved creation and say - "Well done my good and faithful servant."

"So I went down to the potter's house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him." Jer. 18:3-4