She loves to bring the little yellow containers to me and have me open them one by one and make them into balls. She shouts out “ball!” as soon as I open my cupped hands.
Something I love about this experience is the new play-dough. Completely untarnished, still very soft and moldable, no stray dog hairs or mixed up colors, not stiffened by a top left undone, the only indentations are at the top and bottom where it had obviously once been a long strand and was cut to fit into said yellow container.
As we were going through this routine once again today, I started thinking about my girls and how their lives were like that play-dough. How fresh and how moldable and soft they were. How they had still been kept mostly untainted from the world. I considered what my hopes were for the impressions that would be left in their lives and how I could myself mold and shape these young beings. It is, in fact, a bit overwhelming to think of such a charge.
But then, I remembered a verse in Isaiah 64 “Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.” And, I am brought to my knees again as God reminds me that although he has given me a great and important job with my girls, he is ultimately who is forming them. He is the potter, He knows the plans He has for them, He formed them in my womb, I am really just a vessel too.
I am ever so grateful He has chosen me and holds my hands and guides me as He continues to shape me…and my girls!