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The Book Thief
One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are
On Gold Mountain
Bread & Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter
City of Tranquil Light: A Novel
The Distant Land of My Father
The Paris Wife
Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy
Fall of Giants
World Without End
A Stolen Life
Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience and Redemption
The Pillars of the Earth
Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation
The Road
Trials of the Earth: The Autobiography of Mary Hamilton
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
The Accidental Billionaires: The Founding of Facebook, a Tale of Sex, Money, Genius and Betrayal
Cutting for Stone

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Entries in Potter (1)


spiritual fit

Sam sat still in the backseat eyes creased in mock concentration, bottom lip barely protruding. Usually he talks incessantly on the way to church asking questions and fighting with his brother. A long weekend of spelling review had sucked the energy from my fun-loving seven-year-old boy. 

You see Sam had bombed his spelling test. Sam’s teacher sent me an e-mail about it. Could we work on them over the weekend, she asked. She would re-test on Monday. 

Work we did. Several times a day we went through the nine words that gave Sam fits. More than one time-out kept us somewhat civil. Time-outs work for parents too. 

As I sat in church that morning, I knew I was in for some correction when Dr. Easley started off with this question: When did it become so easy to sin? The following 29 minutes exhorted me to repentance. Supernaturally, my spirit began to see how I had been throwing my own version of a fit not unlike Sam’s. 

What is the answer to a fit? To petulance? Rebellion? Is it to soften to the Good Hands attempting to mold you? I could see clearly that Sam’s resistance to review with me kept him from learning. I could not see as easily how my own rigidity and pride kept me from learning what God kept patiently putting before me. 

Sam aced his test on Monday. As I have slumped into the Everlasting Arms, God has mercifully received my spirit. The Potter’s Hands are always molding for my good, and they feel a lot more friendly when I soften to His love.