As I sat on my veranda in the school holidays at Kenilworth, Jim paused on his way past.
“Dry, isn’t it,” I said, looking at the wilting, brown grass and plants. Even some of the trees looked tired.
“What we need is a good flood now,” Jim told me.
“A flood?” I remembered the silver thread of water becoming a turbulent brown mass swirling down the river, bursting the crumbling banks. Destructive water.
“Yes,” he said, “it’s what the land needs.”
But Jim never ceased to amaze me with his knowledge of seasons and the land.
I remembered that last flood again. Ominous leaden skies weighing down on us.The eerie feeling in the air as relentless muddy water crept higher and higher up the cliffs. And then the water trickling over the land. Further and further. I’d found it exhilarating but a bit frightening.
What if it didn’t stop before it reached our houses?
It did though.
After the flood subsided, the entire landscape was different. As it dried out, I marvelled at how God, the Great Potter, had gouged mud from cliffs and paddocks and sculpted it into beautiful shapes. How He had used the swirling water to mould, smooth and carve out patterns on the high muddy cliff that formed one of the river banks. (Jer.18:1+) The entire cliff was reshaped.
Grass would grow again, greener than before. Swallows and kingfishers would dart in and out of nests in the mud of the bank. The land would flourish peacefully under His mighty creative hand.
And people would admire the graceful sculptures carved into the muddy bank as they gazed across the river.
I’m still in the hands of the Potter. Still being moulded and shaped as I continue to settle in to a different living area and a semi-retired lifestyle. I’m busier than before, I suspect.
Are you still in the Potter’s hands? What sort of situations are shaping you?
Photo of Mary River rising by Elvira Meridy White