Besides writing poetry, articles and stories, one of my favourite hobbies is designing websites. In fact, most of my time working on hobbies seems to be devoted to creating or maintaining websites.
It’s the taking of an idea and transforming it into something useful and eye pleasing that really intrigues me. Like a hunter who enjoys running after his prey, I enjoy the strategy of designing a site that is not like others I’ve done and yet showcase all the content in a manner which is pleasing to view.
I can take any image and alter it. I can change its colours, make it black and white, remove some colours to make its file size small and other such things. I can take cascading style sheets, JavaScript, tables, and so many other useful web design features and organise the entire page just the way I want, so it can suit my purposes.
But do I give to the Creator as easily as the web page does to me? Do I give as easily as the clay to the potter (Isa. 64:8)? Do I give as easily as the refiner’s silver? Or as easily as the fuller’s soap (Mal 3:2-3)?
I can feel the fire of the refiner stripping the impurities from my silver. I can feel the soap of the fuller removing the dirt from my beautiful cloth. I can feel the hands of the potter molding my clay into something useful and beautiful. I can feel all these things because I can feel the pressure of my trials.
But does my silver break under that pressure? Does my cloth rip under that pressure? Does my clay pot warp and fall to the ground under that pressure?
The Lord’s hands are in all things. And do I feel those hands and welcome them? Do I allow them to mould me, to cleanse me, to purify me? Or do I reject them, confident that I can do it all on my own? And then do I give up in the end and curse Him who tried to lead?
In the end, only one of two things matter. How did my trials affect me? Did I groan? Or had I grown?
