Trusting God’s Timing When He Appears to be Running Late

When it comes to crafting, I’m a jack of all trades, and master of none.  I’ve made quilts I would never show to a master quilter, knitted scarves that may or may not keep anyone warm, and I know my way around a glue gun – though I usually burn a finger in the process. But pottery is one craft I’ve never attempted, though there are many amazing artisans of pottery in the Blue Ridge Mountains I call home. 

Curious about the process, I recently hit Google and was amazed to learn that the hardest part of removing your creation from the kiln is being patient.  Opening the kiln to see the final product is exciting but doing so too soon causes the glaze to crack, making it unsafe for food storage because bacteria can grow in these cracks. Similar damage can happen if the artisan fails to let the kiln sufficiently drop in temperature or tries to speed up the cooling cycle by opening leaving the lid ajar.

Scripture sometimes compares us to pottery – calling God the potter who shapes and molds us into His unique and useful creation and calling us out for trying to do his job. And after learning about the firing process, I see another powerful theme in this analogy:

We must trust the potter to

open the kiln at just the right moment.

Many times I’ve cried out a question King David also asked: “How long, Oh Lord?”  When will the purifying work be done or the prayer be answered?  I’m usually confident that I have waited long enough.  Most of the time it’s not a matter of my belief in God’s ability or faithfulness to do the thing.  It usually comes down to my belief in his timing. And I often feel like he’s running late and it’s past time to open the kiln.

But I’m so grateful God’s timing is perfect, and he doesn’t act too early. He left Joseph in captivity for twelve years – including the last two where the cup bearer forgot him. But if Joseph was freed any earlier, he might have been halfway back to Canaan when the entire world needed him most. Because God didn’t lift the lid too soon, the cup bearer knew exactly where Joseph was when Pharaoh needed a dream expert.  And there were no cracks in the vessel God made Joseph to be – he used every trial and every tear to protect his chosen people.

Mary and Martha wished Jesus had arrived earlier before their brother died. But by Jesus’ own words, Lazarus’ sickness brought glory to God.  His resurrection after being buried four days carried so much more depth than healing his sickness would have. Jesus’ followers needed that miracle in their minds and hearts when they found the tomb of Jesus empty months later.  And I find my faith renewed in God’s ability to raise dead hearts to life when I think about Lazarus.

I know his plans are to give me a future and a hope.  If just the right amount of time in the fire keeps me from cracking, do I really want to exit early?  I must decide if I want to be a decorative piece or a truly useful vessel – if I want comfort more than I want completion. 

Charles Spurgeon said, “God writes with a pen that never blots, speaks with a tongue that never slips, acts with a hand that never fails.” I can trust the potter to do what he has promised – not too early, and not too late, but always right on time – and always for his glory.