The Place Of Pottery Needs A Revamp

I took a walk with the man of peace.

I love being with men of peace. Not every man I meet is a man of peace. There are quite a few men who are endeavouring to be men of peace, but are still in the process. There are quite a lot of men who have no intention of being men of peace. There are men of peace, though and when I come across them, I cherish their company.

Men of peace don’t come in the same outfit. Their personalities are not identical and uniform. They do share that common element of operating in a peaceful and peace-making way. It seems effortless sometimes, but I know it to be an outcome of their life with God. They know enough in their relationship with God to know that they’re around to make peace.

So you can understand why I’m such a big fan of being with a man of peace.

There we were, then, this man of peace and myself. Walking. We were walking down a road and there was an interesting sight that arrested us. We stopped and took in the sight.

There were two buildings connected together but evidently two separate businesses. The larger building to our left was a pottery factory. The building to our right was a funeral directors.

The pottery factory looked crumbling, dilapidated, shabby and clearly in a state of great disrepair. We both doubted that it was a building in operation by the look of things.

The funeral directors in complete contrast looked fresh, vibrant and active. Nothing about the place looked anything less than attractive and appealing to the outside world. Even though its trade wasn’t so … attractive and appealing. It clearly was open for business and to all appearances it was doing good business.

I turned to the man of peace and asked him what he saw.

He gave a series of fascinating insights. Here was a potters factory where clay was to be moulded to be vessels and it was shut down. Here was a place that was to produce service of life to the living and it was closed. Yet here was another place that was for the dead and that was doing great business. Death was doing well, service for life was closed. Yet among all the insights this man of peace offered, the most memorable one was neatly summed up in the phrase,

“The place of pottery needs a revamp.”

My guy wasn’t bewailing the loss of business in one and the profitablility in the other. My guy saw opportunity. My guy saw hope. And my guy saw that this would be done if that which was looking defunct was brought back to life again. The larger building providing service for life could be a bastion of hope of restoration for others.

It just needs a revamp.

What I love about this man of peace as well, was that he saw the building, but he was talking about a lot more than the building …

(Photo by Oshin Khandelwal on Unsplash)

For His Name’s Sake

Shalom

C. L. J. Dryden