Red

I was relieved when he came into church that night wearing a new red shirt. I'd never seen him wear red before nor have I seen him in red since. I hadn't asked him to do so but it was exactly what he needed to wear.

Turn the clock back about two and a half hours when a kid sitting on the floor of the church yelled, "Ouch!"

I went over to the kid to see what was wrong.

"It's hot!" he said, pointing to the font.

It was the first time I'd used the heater on the font and was unsure of exactly how well it worked. Now the metal sides of the font were painfully hot to the touch.

This was not good.

So, we unplugged the heater and removed the table we'd used as a lid in hopes that the water would cool before the service.

Only then did we learn that the tabletop has once been painted red. The steamy water had leached all the pigments out of it.

Yes, that's right. We had bright red scalding hot water in the font with no way to drain and refill it in time for the service.

So during the time between the services I did all I could think to do. I opened the front door to let the January air into the building in hopes of cooling things down. I set my sermon aside and frantically flipped through the Bible seeing if I could somehow have a message that involved either the Red Sea or being "baptized in the blood" or both.

But with his coming to church in a red shirt and the water cooling off to that of bathwater I was able to switch back to the sermon I had prepared in advance.

During that message each person was given a hard, crumbling piece of clay. They then got to quickly dip their clay into a bowl of water and continue working with it. The newly pliable clay was now able to be shaped and molded into something it couldn't have been before.

I remembered my own baptism and my commitment to letting the Potter mold this clay into something He wants. And I thought of my unnecessarily frantic state that afternoon as I had tried to make up for my own ignorance and error.

I realized (for the millionth time) that He still had a lot of molding to do and that I needed to step back and let Him reshape me to serve peacefully in the circumstances I find myself.

Even my panic had been used by Him to let me be shaped in His hands. For He granted me knowledge in how to better use the font's heater and faith in trusting that as I continue to get things wrong He'll surprise us all in bringing about His work.

Be it the parting of the Red Sea or a baptism candidate in a red tee God continues to use the strangest of circumstances in forming his people into a growing vessel for faith and trust. May the waters of my baptism continue to soak in deeply that I might be easily shaped in His hands.

Melt me. Mold me. Fill me. Use me. Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.