Broken, still Useful.

I grew up in a beautiful African community. To us, love and sharing was the pride of every elder in the community. Our home rarely had less than 20 people at any moment. Though not born together, yet lived together as a family, shared every tough moments, and the good ones. People worked, knowing one’s problem would affect everyone else. 

My father didn’t have a lot of money, he was only a teacher. My mother was just a typical African woman. Nothing sophisticated was really affordable in our home. We had to live on basic needs only for much of the days. My father made sure we had sufficient food and shelter everyday. Our mother made sure we always ate, no dodging eating, lest we fall sick, and yet medical facility was very hard to access.

One day, I realized that life was becoming hard for me. I needed some money to buy some stuffs which I felt I needed so bad as a kid. There was a problem though, it wasn’t a basic need, so neither mom nor dad would sponsor it. I needed to work my way out. I needed a creative mind to help me get that money. I didn’t need to steal, or deceive my parents to get that money. I got a business plan, but had no idea how to actualize it.

Many people used clay pots. I didn’t need money to start a clay pot business. I needed the knowhow to do it. I’d never seen anyone of those over 20 people make one. Now, the question was how can I accomplish the idea?

I gathered my cousins, and we went to get some soil. We really had no idea what type of soil to use, so any would do. We got as much as we needed from the swamp side, and moulded it. It looked so good. We dried it for a few days, and it looked so composed. When we started to bake it in fire, it developed cracks, and broke in the heat. I was devastated. I said in my heart, “mission dead!”.

My father noticed my creativity, and knew that with a little help, I could achieve what I wanted. It was time for me to know he knew how to make clay pots. He gathered us, and took us to the swamp side. We had to dig deep to find the type of soil he needed, the clay soil. We got as much as we could.

He then instructed us to look for some broken pieces of old clay pots. We moved around the large compound, and found some. He instructed us to grind it into smooth particles, which we did. We had no idea what we were doing, but we had to trust that the end would be a clay pot. My father mixed the fresh clay soil with this smooth grinded particles from old broken pots, and set it to ferment for two days.

After two days, we went back to our workshop. My father instructed us to close our eyes and pray before we start the moulding of the pot. After he had made a short prayer, we were set to start the activity. We all had to make our small pots, while replicating what he is doing. He wasn’t doing it for us, he was teaching us. After about 4 hours, we were done with the moulding, and we needed another 5 days for it to dry, then we bake it.

After the long wait was done, it was finally time to bake them. We gathered enough firewood, but my dad was very selective on the ones we could use. He only got the lightweight ones. He then said a prayer before setting up the fire. We were very eager to see the end. After he set fire, he allowed the clay pots to burn till their colors changed to at least brown, but pink was preferred. After about an hour, there we were. We beheld fine pots, ready for use. My father said a thanksgiving prayer to God for the work well done. 

In this, I learned a few things which I’ll share shortly. First of all, life is beautiful, that’s what we all should know, but it’s more than just breath. In case you want to know more about life being more than just breath, I recommend that you read the article http://72.52.228.145/~healingh/peace/ to find out more.

Here are what I learned:

• In life, there’s nothing absolutely useless. The old pots were broken. They were thrown away because they couldn’t meet the needs in the kitchen anymore, but the same could be sought some day to make a better pot.

One might not be useful at the same thing all the time, but that doesn’t mean they’re useless to everything all the time. If you’re useless in the kitchen, find your way to the production room, allow yourself to be processed. Accept the new use that the producer deploys you into. Comfort could be cool, but it’s not always the best. Try something new. Get better every time in something. 

• Not every open door is the right one. The truth is that both with and without my father’s help, we used soil. The difference though was in the type of soil. The suitable type of soil was the clay soil. It didn’t need a shallow digging. We needed to go deeper. We needed to use more energy. We needed someone to tell us we had not yet reached the right part.

The biggest challenge to finding the right door though, is desperation. When desperation gets the best of you, it becomes very easy to run from one wrong door, to another wrong one. This nearly applies in every aspect of life. From relationships, to economics, and to health. Right doors need to be found, else our meanings in life is gone.

• Patience. It took us about a week to finish a task that came in my mind in a flash of lightning. Did we really have to spend all that time, as if we were building a multi-million dollar device? Maybe we didn’t have to, but we needed to. It’s that simple. We could choose to do the stuff in two days or so, but the results wouldn’t stand the test of time.

Our generation is highly fast. Fast internet, fast delivery, fast cooking, fast moving,… but we still have to remember that some things don’t change. A day will still be 24 Hours, that’s it. A kilometer will still be 1000 meters. Some things in life won’t change. If we alter them, we end up crashing the results.

• The process is worth it. In the extraction of the clay, in the fermenting, in the moulding, and in the baking, all is worth if the pot is to be fine. If one step in the process is missed, the results might not meet the desired end.

Unfortunately, hard processes are not very cool. Infact, it’s easy to be religious, than to be a living sacrifice. When fire comes, one who claims religion can easily back out, but the one who claims to be a living sacrifice has no way out. They must accept to be led as sheep for slaughter. They must accept to be thrown in the hands of the enemies. They must accept to be cursed, while they bless. They must accept to be homeless for the sake of others.

Jesus forewarned, and said;

            “where I go, you may go. Where I’m welcomed, you may be welcomed also”.

This means there’s time to go, and to stay. There’s a place you’ll be rejected, and others to which you’ll be received.

We must embrace all these joy, and pain, as we press hard towards the mark of the high calling.

• Trust God. My father had a background knowledge in pot making, but he still prayed to God. But why? Let’s see it this way;

                “One grows, another waters, but God causes the increase”.

Does it ring a bell? Or better yet, this;

              “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.”

Well, my father knew that all human efforts are useless without God at the centre. Knowledge is good, but can’t remove God from His place. Power is might, but that can’t replace God either.

In ignorance, trust God for wisdom, in knowledge, trust God for more. In desperation, trust God for peace. In peace, trust God for more. In poverty, trust God for riches. In riches, trust God for more. In lack of trust, trust God for your trust in Him. In trusting God, trust Him for obedience. Trust God with every reason, and without a reason.