Today was going to be a rough day.
The plan? To attend a luncheon at the local Salvation Army.
The plan of attack? Load two kids in 90+ heat and then unload kids in 90+ heat.
I was scared. I didn't think this was going to go well. (The heat bothers me very much.)
I park, and I have to park far away. (Probably not far for most, but too far for me.) I almost turned around and went home, I could prophesy the outcome of parking far away, lugging two kids plus stuff in 90+ heat. I knew an episode would ensue.
I was correct.
As soon as I hit the doors of the Army, I was in a tingling attack. Not as bad as I have had, but one that put me in tears. A sweet friend helped me inside and with the kids and all that comes with said children when you go places ie. bags, bags and bags.
I had brought one of those Enfamil ice packs that are used in the travel bags for keeping formula cold. I stuffed the ice pack in my bra as I was walking in. (I'm sure I looked silly.)
I sit down, (I'm thinking, 'I wonder if people would look at me funny if I just laid supine on the gym floor here to cool off?') in an attempt to cool off and I know I looked a mess.
The ladies at my table, "You gonna eat honey?" (*my thoughts* I could not eat! I couldn't hold a pen if needed.) "You not feeling well?" (Nope) "You know pickles are supposed to help with nausea." (Nope didn't know that.) "You want a pickle?" (Not really, please quit trying to feed me.) "When are you due?" (Ok now you have hurt my feelings.) I said, "I'm not pregnant, just fat and not feeling well." They respond with the obvious apologies and assumed I was pregnant b/c my friend was. (Silly.)
So the sweet, intrusive ladies kept on with me not eating and their attempt at my need, in their minds, to eat pickles. I finally said, "I don't feel well b/c I was diagnosed with MS last week and it does this to me."
They leaned back in their chairs, ate their pickles and drank their tea.
I felt bad later because I didn't want to say anything, but jeez, there comes a point. (They were very sweet though. Plus they accused me of being prego! I needed a good comeback.)
So the lady begins to speak. She had some clay at every person's chair. She told us to get the clay out, give it to someone at our table without speaking, and mold it into something. I rolled mine out into one long snake, cut them in half and molded it into two joined hearts. I thought "That's how I feel. God is one and I am the other and we are joined more than ever right now."
After we molded, we gave our creations back to the original owner of the clay. The girl that had mine, molded a single heart! Too funny.
The point? God is the Potter and we are the clay. No matter if times are good or bad, the Potter is still molding us for his purpose. Although we feel the molding process much more when times are rough, we still have to let God work in our lives.
Don't become hardened clay and miss out the molding He is trying to do in you.
As I was leaving, kids in tow, my dear friend helped me again. A former boss hugged me and said, "I love you."
I realized in the car, that God does the molding BUT praise HIM he puts people in our lives to help us get through the painful process.
Praise God.