“Daughter” Series
Pottery made by Emily Flaherty; Bottom (pot #1), Left (pot #2), Top (pot #3), Right (pot #4)
Wedging clay (the process of kneading the clay to prepare it to be thrown) can be compared with handing oneself over to God, the Faithful Creator. As the Father molds me in His Hands, His attitude toward me is not one of forceful submission. It is one of freedom. I let myself be pushed into as I fall and rest in the Spirit because the Father’s attitude toward me is one of “falling into the clay” – “I fall into You because You fell into me first. I fall in love with You because You fell in love with me first. You press into me, and I let myself be pressed into because I trust in You. I trust in Your good intentions toward me. I trust that You only act toward me from a place of goodwill, not from fearful domination. The only reason why we resist You is because we do not know You. If we only knew the true intentions of Your Heart, we would melt like wax in the Palm of Your Hands under the warmth of Your love.”
The “Daughter” and “Wounds of Jesus” series side by side are an invitation to remember what it is like to let ourselves be held by God our Father. The deepest desire of His Heart is to hold us, as Jesus tenderly reminds us when He says, “How many times I yearned to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings” (Luke 13:34). When we simply let ourselves be gathered once again into His Hands, it is then that we find we are easily transformed as clay in the Hands of the Potter, the Master Creator of our souls. What was initially intended to be two separate series became two congruent ones, encapsulating the mystery of our relationship with God and our salvation.
The “Daughter” series is a reflection on what it means to be held in the Father’s Hands. Each bowl conveys this message in a slightly different way:
The first pot was made from the inspiration of being made in His image. We are so much in His image that we can find marks from His Hands, His very own fingerprints, all over us. The way we are made is a reflection of Himself. Our bodies tell of Him and so do the depths of our souls. How intimate is His love that He would not leave an inch of our bodies without His fingerprint!
The second pot was made with the impression of the palm on the sides of the walls, reminding us that we are held in the Palm of His Hand. Holding each of these pots is a reminder of how we fit in the Father’s Hands, as each pot rests perfectly between the palms of the holder.
The third pot was made based on the inspiration of how God sees us - beloved, worthy, and chosen. The pot was engraved with these words before it was glazed. Unfortunately, the engravements are now hidden, but perhaps it becomes another deeper reflection: how often it is that the truth of how He sees us is hidden from our eyes and only needs to be rediscovered by once again living under His true gaze.
Finally, the fourth pot was a bit different. Its inspiration was the notion that our desires are like seashells in His Hands. He knows each of them deeply, having placed all the good desires in our hearts in the first place. He treasures them, just as He treasures us. Seashells were used to make impressions in the clay, however, these details were also covered after the addition of the glaze.
The Father looks at me with eyes of love and delight, not condemnation. It was His sheer love and desire for me that was the clay from which I was made. First and foremost, I receive … “I receive this mold that You have made for me, the mold of Your Hands. It is to the shape of Your Hands that I conform; for You I was made. When I realize that my image perfectly fits into Your Hands, I begin to know my true identity. This is what it means to be made in Your image. As each person is made differently, there is no vessel of Yours that fits the same way in Your Hands…and how each is a different delight for You to hold! When I realize that it is only love that molds me, I can come back to that constant state of rest in Your Hands, and in this rest, I am able to unfold like a flower blooming in Your Hands. When I find that I have become hardened clay out of fear, I need to let myself be warmed in the Palm of Your Hands again. Your Hands never left me; I just forgot what it was like to let myself be held.”
