POTTER'S WHEEL || HORSE CACTUS MUSIC

27 days ago
12

POTTER'S WHEEL || HORSE CACTUS MUSIC

Didja ever ask yourself, is there any way to offload this lifetime accumulation of baggage I carry across my shoulders? We humans have two distinct personas; our beautiful Godlike spirits and our equally-prestigious human bodies {we can call them our buckets-of-blood}, surely made in the image of God. These treasures sometimes, through circumstance, can become unsheltered and ragged and vulnerable.

Does what results of this negligence while wending down our own personal River of Life resemble a rank slab of oozy riverside mud, slung up on our backs, bending and misaligning our lives unmercifully as we try our best to endure to the end? This unwelcome heft we pick up along the way burdens the rest of our existence past birth. It's more than what's good for us, like a bulging walrus we must pack up every day and carry wherever we go.

Man, we need to get rid of this stuff! Well... there might be a way...

Our great revitalizing POTTER'S WHEEL, almost under the hand of God, {and as performed here by Nashville's great Adam Cunningham}, is imagined to be the mechanism by which God allows each of us the prospect of preparing ourselves for eternity, to make amends for our human misdeeds. It's where we are permitted to take our own personal intimate and individual journeys through our inner Universe, where we might repair and replace every negative encumbrance, address every heavy burden, scrub away filth and grime accumulated during our arduous earthly sojourn.

God allows us such opportunity that we might replace those excessive unreasonable burdens with timely fruits of Heaven, that we understand and overhaul our miseries and mistakes. It's the place we go to re-pledge, to refurbish our lives. At the POTTER'S WHEEL, we each might get a new chance, another shot at the renewal of everything we ever lost.

We throw onto the Potter's Wheel our Buckets of Blood, these once perfectly unique human bodies, along with our putrid unrefined Riverside Mud, the unmerciful burdensome baggage of pain, fear, outrage, failure, the weight always slung across our shoulders, always pressing us down to be less than we might.

We are required only to provide the courage demanded to step up, to do the work essential to restoration. God will do the rest, should he find us worthy.

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