Saturday, June 18, 2005 - :D : woopee! i finally managed to get a tan. ha. happily baked myself under the sun. and i think i'm a tad burnt. ah well. you can imagine how -_- i felt when people say i don't really look much darker. yup. oh yes, i saw this guy wear PINK trunks. yup. PINK, as in neon. ha. but his saving grace was that he has a physique that im still working towards. yup. so i salute him for his incredible boldness. and to think just a few years back, guys wearing RED trunks were thought of as incredibly bold and insane to say the least. alright FINE. some say gay. ah well. to each his own.

today's sermon was very good i feel. answered questions i had about guidance in the Spirit and how to listen to God. although we were missing 20 odd people to a mission trip in M'sia, there didn't seem to be very much gone. nevertheless, the story Rev Abel Thomas told us at the end of the service was so convicting. just at the middle of the story, i was already convicted. so let me share with you the story with a bit of narrative aspects to it....

"As the master potter walked into the room, he noticed 3 wet lumps of clay lying on his workbench, each waiting to be moulded into a beautiful piece of art. The potter then sat himself down in front of the 1st lump of clay, and began to mould it. But before he could even set his hands on it, the lump of clay said,

"And just WHAT do you *think* you are doing?"

"Why, I'm the potter, and I'm going to mould you!" the potter replied, somewhat bewildered that the clay actually spoke out in such a manner.

"Well, -thank you- for your meddlesome kindness, but I think I like myself the way I am. So leave me alone to MYSELF."

"But I have such great plans for you! Such great visions of you as a beautiful vase decorating the home of the most famous of men!"

"Well, in case if you don't understand Anglais (English in French), I said NO. So please go away and leave me to my beautiful self."

The potter looked on sadly, as the lump of clay began to dry, and harden, so much so it was too hard to use. In profound sadness, the potter took the harden lump of clay and threw it into the bin. Then, he came and sat before the 2nd lump of clay, and reached out to it to mould it. But again as before, the lump of clay whispered ever so softly to the potter,

"Pllllease be gentle with me? My mother has alllways given me whatever I wanted, and I never really suffered much pain or punishment before, so I'm afraid I cannot withstand much. Just nudge me a little here and there, and it will be enough!"

"But I have great plans for you! I intend to sculpt you into a beautiful work of art, to make you into a statue that will be absolutely priceless!"

"But I cannot take suffering! Just nudge me a little here and there. That's enough for me!"

"Hm, alright then. What do you want to be?"

"Well, make me a fish! Make many fishes out of me!"

"Fishes?? But I have such better plans for you! Very well then, I will do as you say."

Then, the potter began to mould small fishes out of the 2nd lump of clay. Being a master potter, such a task was simply too simple for him. When it was done, the clay fishes were sold for a dollar for a dozen. A little girl bought the fishes and began to play with them when she returned home. It brought her joy playing with it, but after a little while, the fishes broke, and returned back to dust.

The potter now saddened by the fate of the first two lumps of clay then turned to the 3rd clay. Before he could even address the clay, the clay shouted,

"MASTER POTTER!!!" The potter was obviously taken aback, as the 3rd lump of clay said,

"Oh, master potter, I have seen your son, and indeed, I want to look like him! Please, master potter, make me like your son!" The potter of course was highly amused, and also somewhat cynical, especially after what the previous lumps of clay had said to him.

"Well, why do you want to look like my son? What do you know about him?"

"Of course I know your son! While you are the master potter, your son deals with all the paper work, and delivers your orders to the other workers! He is so handsome and good in heart, so I want to be like him!"

"Well, it is a difficult thing you ask me to do, because I do not compromise in my craft. I will shape you and craft you, in ways you cannot imagine, in ways you cannot comprehend, and at times you will wish you never made this desicion, but trust in my skill and mastery, and I will see that you acheive what you asked. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes yes! Please begin now master potter!" With that the potter took the clay and began to knead it and pound it. At this, the clay cried out in pain, whimpering and crying.

"Please stop! You are hurting me!" But the potter ignore its cries and continued his pounding. After a little while, the clay became fine and smooth. The potter than took the lump of clay and placed it upon the spinner and began to spin it.

"Oh please stop! I'm feeling so dizzy! I can't take this anymore!" But the potter ignored his pleas again, and began to mould the clay. At the end of it, the clay felt terribly ill and thirsty. The potter than fed the clay with a pill and gave it water to drink. As the clay drank hungrily, the potter took out a knife.

"What is that for?!"

"Why, it is to sculpt you and refine you! To cut out all the parts that does not look like my son!"

The potter began cutting, and the clay began protesting and screaming in pain.

"Please stop it! Don't you love me anymore? Why do you tortured me so, you cruel potter? Why??" the potter cried with overwhelming sadness. After what seemed like eternity, the potter stopped cutting. The clay heaved a sigh of relief, but its relief was shortlived, as the potter took it and placed it into the dark oven.

"First you pound me, then you spin me around, then you cut me. Now you are going to BURN me???"

"My dear dear clay, I do not burn you without a purpose. After spending your time in the oven, you will be shining like glass, smooth and glazed - a beautiful work of art!"

"But what if I get burnt? I am sure to get burnt!"

"You will not, because I will be here. I will be here always to control the temperature. I will adjust it from time to time, ensuring the heat is just right. Too little will cause you to be matte, and too much will burn you. But trust in me! I will make sure you never burnt. My eye will be on you, and on the clock always." With that, the potter turned up the fire.

"Ahhh!!! It's so hot!! I can't take this anymore! I'm going to die! Oh please stop this!" But the potter ignored his pleas, his hands always on the dial controlling the heat, his eye always watching the clay and the clock. After a long long while, the potter finally turned off the heat, and left the room. The potter sat there in the oven, watching the potter walk away, leaving him all alone. 'Perhaps this is my lot in life, to live in darkness, to suffer and to be forgotten in this dark oven. Why did I ever ask the potter to mould me? Maybe I would be so much better off just being the way I was before..." With that, the clay began to cry, it's tears pouring down his face...

2 days later, as the clay sat in the oven brooding over his fate, he heard the familiar steps of the potter. It's heart lifted, as the potter opened the door of the oven, and smiled when he saw the clay. The clay remained silent as he looked at the master. The master then sat the clay in the most prominent part of his house, and blew the dust of the clay's face. The clay was so puzzled by the potter's behaviour, and looked around itself, and saw many other beautiful works of animals and trees, but it stood above all of them. But in the midst of all this beauty, it caught itself in the reflection of a mirror. The clay began to cry, not in sadness, but in overwhelming joy.

In its reflection, the clay saw himself, a shining statue bearing the exact resemblance of the Potter's Son, his body shining in the Potter's fullest glory and mastery, his features standing out in the Son's perfection. Even after all the suffering, the pain and the fire, the clay said to himself.

"Praise be to the Potter! For it was all worth it..."

This is a beautiful story...no? :)

C.K blogged at 7:59 AM