GRACE FOR THE KILN

On my very first trip into the Soviet Union in the time of the Cold War I was surprised to find a bright little store in an otherwise drab and grey place. We were guided to a back alley by our taxi driver who behaved as if he were revealing a Soviet State Secret. The small shop had magnificent porcelain pottery. I bought several pieces and carefully packed them for my trip back to America. Upon arrival back home I opened my suitcase only to find that all but one piece was broken; they had not been sufficiently heated and hardened in the kiln. I do not like going through the furnace of trials life can bring, yet it is the “furnace of much affliction” that strengthens me for what is next. Father, You are the Potter, I am the clay. Grant me grace for the kiln that I may have fortitude for the journey.