He Knows

"The Lord is like a father to his children, 
tender and compassionate to those who fear him.
 For he knows how weak we are, 
he remembers we are only dust." 

Psalm 103:13-14

I have a weakness for pottery. I love the different shapes, the designs, the textures, the curves. I am intrigued by the fact that someone's hands formed the items I treasure; their creativity on display for others to enjoy. The bright colors bring me pleasure! 


Whenever we travel, I usually find some sort of pot or vase to bring home as a reminder of the culture and country we visited. Many in my collection have been gifts from friends around the world, making them even more special to me! 


One of my most prized possessions is probably the least expensive piece of pottery I have. It's value comes from the fact that it was given to me by my sweet Batwa friends in Burundi, Africa. They spent a week mixing the mud themselves, forming the pot, smoothing it with their hands, delicately carving designs around the side, and lovingly setting it in the fire to dry. They diligently worked together with me in mind, making gifts for all the guests who were coming. On the day of our final visit to their village, they thanked us for our friendship, they danced with us, prayed for us, and presented each of us with the gift of their handiwork. I was humbled and honored by their generosity. 


I knew this piece of pottery was extremely fragile, and I desperately wanted it to survive the journey to it's new home in Texas. I carefully wrapped the pot in my clothing, filling the inside and wrapping several t-shirts around to protect it. I put it in my carry-on bag, placing things around it to keep it from bouncing around during the trip. I cushioned it above and below. I carried it with me in the car to the airport. I kept it in my hands all through the airport. It never left my sight, except as it passed through the x-ray machine at the security check point. Even then, I was watching my bag go through the machine and I grabbed it as soon as it passed through. I kept it with me as we waited to board the plane, and I gently set it under the seat in front of me on the airplane. I kept my eye on it during all three flights home, making sure it didn't get bumped or roll around. 


I knew that this pot was delicate. I knew that even an unintentional blow could shatter what was so special to me. And because I knew, I took extreme measures to take extra special care of the pot. Thankfully, the pot made it to Houston and is now proudly on display in my home!


As I was reading Psalm 103:13-14 the other day, God reminded me of the Batwa pot. It's the picture of what God is saying in this verse. He knows how weak I am. He remembers that I am only dust. Just as I took extreme care of the fragile Batwa pot, God is lovingly caring for me. He wraps me up in his love. He fills me, he protects me. He never lets me out of his hands, and he never takes his eyes off me. He knows me, and so he carries me. 


I am grateful for a God who so lovingly "remembers we are only dust."